STARS Case Files: A murder in Arkley Mountains
by Aquarius Dragon
Summary: When a bizarre murder in Arkley Forest jeopardizes the secrets of former Umbrella employees, lives will be put at stake to protect them at any cost. Complete.
1. Chapter 1: A Corpse at the Farm

**STARS Case Files: A murder in Arkley Mountains**

Rating: Mature for mentions of non-consensual sex, violence, gore, and strong language.

Summary: When a bizarre murder in Arkley Forest jeopardizes the secrets of former Umbrella employees, lives will be put at stake to protect them at any cost.

Disclaimer: Resident Evil and (its) characters are property of Capcom, and its respective creators. Therefore, I am not making any profit or money off this story.

**Chapter One: **A Corpse at the Farm

_Blood gushing out from the wounds waslosing its intensity fast. Now, only one or two spurts of blood splattered on the cracked wooden floor. The place was desolate, save for the tattered body of a young woman pinned to the wall. _

_The small hut was in complete disarray. Torn old cloth hung over the windows was still. It swayed lightly when touched by the night wind. Almost the entire hut was blanketed by darkness, but the red blood shimmered like a liquid philosopher's stone, sprayed on the floor haphazardly. _

_As the first morning light filled the room, it looked even messier, and bleaker than before in the shining dead eyes of the girl, looking sadly at the signs of life and the fresh air leaking through the window. _

The phone rang quite noisily at four in the morning. Jill was lying flat on her chest, and head was still under the pillow. She grabbed the phone with the whisk of her hand.

"H-hello," she sputtered in sleep.

"Hi Jill! How are you doing?" a familiar squeaky voice came through the receiver.

Jill moved her misty eyes to the clock. It was not lying, and nor was the sombre colour of the night sky.

"Brad… it's four in the morning. You better expect a kick in your teeth tomorrow," Jill grumbled into the phone.

"Geez Jill. You are just so sweet aren't you?" Brad said, sounding somewhere between angry and embarrassed.

Jill ran a hand through her sweaty hair. The room felt unbearably warm. She had abused the new oil heating system again.

"At this time of night…No I am not," she said tiredly, pushing the bed sheets back with her feet. The room felt blazing hot.

"Don't flatter yourself Jill, you are never sweet," Brad said in a childish huff. "Anyways, Captain Wesker asked me to call you."

"What? Why?" Jill asked in surprise. What did her unloving, handsome Captain want at this time of night?

"He has finally decided to take you out on a date." Brad made an odd snickering sound.

"Shut up Brad," Jill replied angrily, feeling red colour of embarrassment rise to her cheeks.

"Whatever…The thing is, a homicide has occurred at Dorel Farm. So get there ASAP. No delays and no complains," Brad said, reverting to his serious, almost-officer-like demeanour.

"Alright," Jill said, throwing her legs out of the comfortably warm bed.

"But don't worry Jill," Brad continued in an amused voice, "there is no need to give up hope." He threw a final childishly snide comment, and hung up on her.

Jill gritted her teeth at another lost opportunity for an onslaught of insults. Brad was sneaky like that. She slammed the reviver on the phone, and started pacing around the room looking for her uniform.

Last night, the office work had dragged on beyond the bed time, so she had carelessly slipped out of her uniform, and in her sleep tossed it around the room. It lay under the pile of clothing accumulated around the bed through neglect.

After a careful goose chase around the room, she finally slipped into the comically-elusive pair of navy blue pants, and that mildly-smelling shirt. She tucked her shirt in, and ran down stairs, buttoning up along the way.

Jill stopped in front of the mirror and grabbed the office cap hanging from the nail next to it. She quickly slipped it on her head, pressing the unkempt hair under it. Only a tuft of light brown hair was sticking out from under the cap.

She rushed to the door and swung it open. But the sight that awaited her was not welcoming. It was very nippy outside, and looking at the glazed road and her car covered with wet; it had been spitting for quite sometime now.

The wind was keen and chilly, and her thin uniform was not helping either. It felt like cool liquid was soaking through it, biting into her skin. She cast a long weary look at her door; if only she had brought a sweater along.

The streets were empty. There was no one in sight, not even a small stray cat. It was almost four in the morning after all. People were still tucked in their warm beds, snoring till morning, while she was out here about to go for an investigation….

_Every profession has its downside,_ she thought bleakly.

Somewhat comforting herself in her own way, Jill opened the car door and slipped inside. The inside of the car was warm. She opened the dashboard, and closely looked at her Stars badge and the 9mm pistol safely tucked away under the yellow file.

Jill quickly started and reversed the car, rolling along the streets, looking here and there at the dimly lit houses. It was like a ghost town at this time of the night.

It was a long ride to the Farm, which was located about forty Km away from the main city. The light pitter patter stopped and the overcastting clouds dispersed, giving a clear view of the morning reddish sky, and lush surrounds of Arkley Mountains.

It was nearly half past 6. Jill could see yellow police lines stretched across picket fences of Doral Farm. Just next to the fence a couple of ambulances and police cars stood, flashing red and blue lights silently.

She parked her car close to a police car and got out. The atmosphere was tense. A lot of police officers were clustered here and there, whispering about the murder details and other bits of information coming from across the fence.

Jill cast brief glances at the tense faces, and caught words like, "horrible murder…", "…inhuman…", and, "poor girl…"

She walked up to a young officer standing next to his car. He was busy writing down some sort of details with a tense look on his face.

"Excuse me," Jill began, breaking his concentration.

The kind looking young man looked up, and said, "yes Ma'am?"

He looked quite young to intentionally pass for a police officer, and was mite timid looking to be investigating a gruesome murder.

"You are with?" she asked awkwardly.

"I am with the paramedics Ma'am," the young man replied quickly, but after looking at the incredulous expression on Jill's face he added, "I just graduated from University and got recruited two months ago," he finished, wearing an innocent but proud smile.

"How old are you?" Jill blurted out quite suddenly.

"I am eighteen Ma'am," he replied, flushed in the face.

"Ahhhh," Jill acknowledged, thinking about the tiny little Rebecca chambers. Maybe they were a couple back in their university days … If they were in the same University of course. But they had to be.

_How cute,_ Jill thought. She stretched her hand, and quite boldly gave three heavy pats on the confused man's head. He reminded her so much of Rebecca and how her little head bobbed when she finished her work, barely visible behind Chris's giant melon of a head.

"Jill," Brad's blaring voice broke her display of unneeded affections.

She turned her attention for her cowardly-comrade, who looked quite out of it. Brad puffed, trying to catch his ragged breath. He must have run all the way here.

"J…Jill you made it in time." He stooped a little, putting his hands on his knees for support. His face was almost white. "Captain Wesker just made it 30 minutes before you," he barely gasped out.

"30 minutes," Jill said in shock. This was not comforting. What if he scolded her for being incompetent and lazy?

The young officer resumed his work, leaving Jill and Brad to catch up on the developments, if there were any.

"Any details on the murder?" Jill asked Brad, whose breathing was slowly evening out.

"Nope," Brad gave a quick reply, straightening his back and looking around in that typical pretending-to-be-confused Brad fashion.

"Jill, when did you get here?" Chris asked loudly, appearing from behind the crowd gathered at the edge of the farm.

"Just now," Jill answered. "Any details yet? Apparently no one told Brad anything," she said folding her arms across her chest.

Brad threw Jill a nasty how-dare-you look.

"It's not Brad's fault Jill," Chris said, clapping on Brad's shoulder, "they just do not want an extra ambulance here to escort out our fainted team mate."

"Chris, was that supposed to be hysterical?" Brad said, looking at Chris with a subtle hint of anger in his eyes. "Do tell me when I am supposed to laugh my ass and head off, and then you can call that stupid ambulance, you over-sized oaf."

"Geez Bridges calm down, I was just joking. You know I have a bad sense of humour." Chris curled an arm around Brad, who was clearly huffing and puffing now.

"Whatever, Christine," Brad stressed the last word to injure Chris's manly Pride. "And I suppose YOU know something?"

"Okay, that is enough both of you," Jill broke in at the sound of something that could have been Chris gritting his teeth. "You two fight like two bitchy 13 year old cheer leaders."

Chris parted his lips to say something horrible again, but thankfully a voice interrupted his otherwise silly teasing that was normally far from funny. And apparently to most of the staff, including Wesker, "only Chris could find his idiotic drivel humorous."

"Chris," a man called out from across the fence, waving his hand at the three Stars members.

Chris uncurled his arms. "Well, that's our cue," he said excitedly.

"Wow, now our team's catchword is this gorilla's name," Brad said, looking and sounding angry. Chris almost got to him every time.

"Calm down Brad," Jill said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Just let it go. You know air force training is the only thing going for him."

"And what is THAT supposed to mean?" Chris looked over his shoulder in disbelief. Surely Jill couldn't hurt him like this?

"It means exactly what it means, you stupid goody scout boy," Brad said with a note of utmost surety in his now considerably calm voice. "Let's go Jill before the Captain insults us for being late in front of the whole police station."

"Yeah let's," Jill said between chuckles. Brad had won this round in this friendly squabble.

Chris cocked his eyebrow at Jill's fruity chuckles, but decided to take this matter to the police station in the afternoon. He followed Jill and Brad through the shrubbery to the back of the farm. There stood Wesker and Barry, looking and discussing something important as usual. They were the inseparable, dubious duo.

Wesker shifted his cold icy eyes to the team called in for the investigation, and began with his usual heavy accent in an authoritative manner, "since we are all finally here," the words seem to roll off his tongue effortlessly, alluding to Jill's late arrival, "now we can start this investigation."

Jill felt Wesker's stare heavily on herself… this was a direct insulting assault on her. The ground felt like it was waving under her feet. Two officers were snickering behind her back…how humiliating.

"Your task is simple," Wesker said, unfolding his arms and relaxing his face muscles, "gather any piece of evidence, without coming in contact with the corpse."

He adjusted his sheer black glasses that always showed the dim glow of his striking blue eyes. "Of course this only applies to those lucky ones who manage to find anything; otherwise this would be nothing but a waste of everyone's time."

Jill squirmed under Wesker's eyes, but Chris looked too casual to let Wesker's insult sink in. Insults had a hard time getting through to him. Next to Chris Brad looked like as if he was about to sway, and drop to the ground.

"Those who are tired can obviously go home," Wesker said quite clearly and slowly, looking at Chris whose arms were stretched vertically in air. He was about to yawn, but had decided to swallow it down along with his dignity. His face looked as if he had chocked on his own air.

Wesker cast one last disgusted look at Chris's face, and started walking for the area behind the bushes with Barry. The three alpha team members followed in his wake with their heads hanging in shame.

Even before the team had made it to the crime scene, an awfully putrid stench arose from behind the tall weeds and shrubs. When Jill made it to the main investigation area behind Brad, the first thing in full-sight was the dead body.

It was a body of a young woman, carelessly thrown on a dried up, toppled tree. The area was cleared of trees and weeds were snipped off. The red dead body looked in odds with the dried up yellow leaves under it.

"Looks like she was wearing something white," Wesker's sharp voice came through to Jill from somewhere far away.

Wesker was right. It must have been white, but now it was soaked red. Jill looked sideways from Wesker who looked awfully busy with Barry, to the body and could only think of one thing.

_Who could she be? _


	2. Chapter 2: Dorel Farm

**Chapter Two: **Dorel Farm

The sight of a dead body spread-eagled on the yellow, dried up grass and the area drenched in foul odour was enough to churn all the juices in Jill's stomach.

She kept staring at the corpse shining with the smeared redness in the light of dawn that just broke across the light grayish sky.

This was the first time Jill had ever seen a dead body. But she had buried her lovely black cat once in her back yard. It was heart breaking for her to throw it in a roughly dug ditch, after it chocked on Jill's home made spicy chicken.

Maybe the spices were too much for her…

_It did count as a dead body_, Jill thought, thinking sadly about Miss Pom Poms who died a not so peaceful death, twisting and turning on the floor with a large chicken bone stuck in her throat.

"It was my fault." Jill's face took on a about-to-vomit look, when a gurgling sound somewhere behind her tore her away from the reel of Pom Pms tragic death running in her head.

She turned to find Brad frothing at his mouth. He leaned over, and without much of a warning let out a strained sound, sending his breakfast out of his stomach and onto the remaining green grass on the ground.

It looked like something thickly orange had been spread over green. The colour combination was nothing but an intricate mess. Brad sank to his knees. The sight of the dead body and the putrid smell must have been enough to send him over to the edge.

"I…I am just a helicopter guy," Brad stuttered, wheezing from the violent throw-up just now.

Jill could not blame him. It was her first time as well, but at least she was trying to keep it together.

"Brad, I thought I told you to manage the ambulances at the entrance," Wesker's voice from behind them surprised the miserable Jill and the sick-to-his-stomach Brad.

"Hmm." Brad stood up in confusion, making a face that he was trying to remember something, or maybe getting ready to lay a large egg.

Wesker's nose wrinkled at the sight of natural abstract painting near Brad.

"Sorry Captain. I am on it." Brad wiped the side of his lips clean.

"Good, because we do not want any more unpleasantness added to the scene," Wesker said firmly, walking away to the other corner of the cleared area.

"I better go," Brad said in a half relieved and half miserable voice. Wesker's insults only added to his misery.

Jill watched him stagger clumsily out of sight. She turned her head, sweeping her eyes around the visible area. Chris looked bored as he pocked around with something that looked like a stick in the grass… Gun action was all he ever liked.

She turned to the body, not in a mood to respond to Chris's goofy hand wave. He was not going to get serious any time soon. She pulled out tight plastic gloves from her pocket, the courtesy of Stars youngest member, Rebecca.

Jill pulled them on her dry hands. They felt drier than usual in the nippy weather. She had forgotten to dab a little moisturizer on. No wonder her face felt a little stretched today. Finally forgetting about beauty matters, she devoted herself fully to the dead girl.

She threw one last, sheer hopeful glace at her cold Captain, who could have been there to encourage her; even the thought somehow managed to laugh at her … the silly little stars girl, Wesker was not chivalric enough to offer her a hand. Those things were reserved for his rhetorically insulting speeches. He always took the middle ground in all the affairs.

_Well, what about Barry, huh?_ her thoughts got stirred up again as she knelt next to the body, pocking the shriveled up grass around it, kind of like checking the water whether it was cold or not.

Barry looked too busy with Wesker. Those two were like some elitist rich businessmen with special prerogatives. They made her so mad sometimes. _They had to start treating her right, or else…_

"I am alright…" Chris yelled, waving his stretched out arm in air as he lay sprawled in the mud. He had apparently slipped and his stick was broken now.

Chris's untimely interruption had broken into her smooth flowing thoughts. They were suddenly left muddled like Chris's irregularly cropped hair abnormally puffed up like something big was blown in them.

Wesker directed one icy cold look at his unimportant, lowly staff member, then with an almost casual air looked away, resuming the discussion with Barry that had kept him occupied for the last twenty or so minutes.

When Jill finally assured herself that no one was coming, and Wesker was clearly doing this on purpose, she created a silly frown and produced a tiny note book from her pocket. It was time to finally settle her eyes on the body, and write some details about the crime scene.

She inhaled the morning air heavy with decay, and scribbled down the first details of the scene.

"… No sign of any foot prints," she said, looking carefully around the body.

Jill inched around, continuously lifting and lowering her eyes to take a good look at the body. Her sweaty, plastic covered hands clenched and unclenched at the sight of dried blood. It looked nearly black on her neck, tattered clothes, and the rest of exposed skin clasped in the glow of morning light.

"Possible cause of death…" she began, gulping a large lump down her unusually dry throat, "… deep gash in the neck…" and moved the small pen on the note book.

Her gaze slid over victim's face and the green tear lines spread out like wisps over the cheeks all the way down to her jaw line. She must have cried before she died, but no one wiped her tears.

The deep gash that nearly circled her entire throat like a black chocker was visible from meters away. Blood welled up as if boiling inside a cauldron, rising to escape the pot and pouring out from inside her throat. She was murdered not long ago.

She knelt up next to the body, looking between the wide-open thighs. There were bruise marks on the inner thighs, and a strange thick liquid was slowly oozing out from the vagina. It was a mixture of blood and something thick and white… Perhaps it was sperm.

Jill rose to her feet and wrote a few words again. "The girl was probably raped before, or after death… Awaiting doctors' report after post-mortem."

She ran her eyes around the yellow grass again, when something shimmering caught her eyes. She leaned over and picked a small coin shaped pendent with a long, thin chain on the tip of her fingers.

"LM?" she said almost silently, looking at the letters on the tiny coin like pendent dangling at the long chain's end.

Carefully, she put it away in a tiny plastic bag and turned her gaze to Chris, strolling around with a cardboard box clasped between his large arms. He had given up all attempts to look for anything. Now he just took a few paces here and there quite aimlessly in throes of finding something interesting to pass the time.

"Find anything?" Chris asked casually, finding his way to her through his aimless search.

"Just one pendent," she answered and showed him the pendent in the plastic bag.

"Well … this isn't much," Chris said unenthusiastically. He gently took the bag from Jill's hand, and slipped it carefully inside the box that was clutched under his left arm.

"What did you expect?" Jill turned fully with hands on her hips. "That you will find clues, like you once did in those lame treasure hunts you arranged in your backyard?"

"Jill," Chris looked and sounded quite offended, "shame on you, you had fun, just admit it." He looked away, clutching the box more firmly under his muscular arm.

"Whatever." Jill turned her eyes away from the sulking Chris, and brought them on her captain. "Who is that guy Wesker is questioning?"

"The fat guy?" Chris pointed the finger at the man who looked like a blob covered with clothes.

Jill nodded, tucking hanks of light brown hair behind her ear.

"He owns the farm. Wesker must be giving him the time of his life," Chris commented, looking at the man nodding and shaking his head at the slow cascade of Wesker's skeptical questions.

"I doubt the guy is involved," Jill said thoughtfully, stepping aside to let some men fit the body into the body bag.

"There is a small chance the guy is involved," Chris responded, handing the cardboard box over to a female officer.

"The woman was raped without the use of condom. Do you really think this guy is as fatheaded as he looks?" Jill asked Chris, holding her gaze for some reply.

They stood next to the men as they carefully fitted the body in the bag, and zipped it carefully.

"How do you know he is not involved?" came the slow reply from Chris, who looked at the men carry the body bag out of the area.

"How? Do you see any houses around here?" Jill defended her argument with a long wave of her arm at the empty, and uninhabited surrounds.

"So? This forest is spread over miles. Maybe he has a small hut somewhere around here." Chris brought his eyes back to Jill, when the police men were completely out of his sight.

"Like you said, maybe." Jill pushed the office cap that hung low over her face, throwing a wisp of smile at Chris.

"What is your theory then?" Chris asked with an air of sarcasm, holding his ground in the argument.

Jill contemplated seriously for a fleeting moment. "The murderer probably lives nearby," she paused, resting her chin on her fisted fingers. "There is a lake not far from here. And there aren't any footprints, which means the killer came here on a boat … dumped the body, and left the same way."

Chris remained silent for a second. "Are you hooked on CSI these days?" he asked in a seriously blunt manner.

"Shut up Chris," Jill replied quickly with the roll of her dark brown eyes.

"Chill out, I was just joking." Chris tried to cool her down.

"Why don't you just stop throwing cheap humour around… anyways, I want to know what Wesker is asking that man." Jill shrugged, looking at Wesker again.

"Fine, go and ask him. And maybe just maybe he will tell you." Chris waved both his hands sarcastically.

"He will not bite my head off." Jill started walking for the Captain.

"Remember when I asked him about Chief Irons questionable past?" Chris walked closer to her, keeping his head and voice down. "He almost did bite my head off."

"Wesker never screams," Jill said in surprise, matching her pace with Chris's.

"… Wesker thinks he is some elitist bast…" Chris bit back the remaining word at the look of Wesker's sharp eyes.

He gave those two a long, scrutinizing look then returned his gaze back to the man standing in front of him.

Unlike the cold features stuck on Wesker's pale face twenty four seven, the farm owner looked far from untroubled. Sweat streamed down his forehead; he kept wiping his sweat drenched face on his sleeve after every few seconds.

"So Mr. Daniel, you said you saw the dead body early in the morning?" Wesker asked, throwing a hint of cold smile.

The large man wiped his face on his sleeve again, and pressed his hand to his over-sized sweaty chest.

The white man, who looked in his mid-thirties, was completely out of shape. Whenever he moved his fat arms, flabby muscles swung from side to side like some round fleshy parts.

The swells on his chest gave a wrong feeling to the observer, that the man had some eccentricities to hide and almost certainly had breast implants under his freckly pink chest.

Daniel cleared his throat nosily three times, and finally decided to give an answer.

"Y…Yes I take a walk though my farm every morning, Doctors told me that it's good for my health." The wobbly squeaky voice on him, and his towering and threatening body sounded quite funny.

The kind of questing plus, 'you can not be serious' look Wesker gave him in the most serious way imaginable nearly made Jill burst out in fists of laughter. Next to her, Chris coughed and cleared his throat to hold his laugh.

"I see…" Wesker closely observed the man from head to toe, not relaxing his typically cold features. "As I recall a man gave us a call from your house, your acquaintance I presume?" he continued, adjusting his sunglasses settled on the sharp perch of his nose.

"Yes Billy is my cousin; it's his routine work to check picket fences in the morning," Daniel replied boldly.

Wesker shifted his questioning gaze to Barry. "Did you question the man?" he asked nonchalantly.

"I did, he told me whatever Mr. Daniel just told us," Barry informed the perpetually bored Wesker.

Wesker cupped his chin lightly, appearing lost in thought. "Barry, inform all the officers to vacate the area, and Mr. Daniel…" He locked his murky blue eyes on Daniel, who was holding his breath as if awaiting judgment for his crime. "You are not to leave the city unless I say so," he ordered, keeping his tone flat.

Wesker extended his hand courteously. Daniel clenched Wesker's hand and shook it limply.

"Thank you for your time," Wesker said with bored half lidded eyes, as he appeared convincingly aloof.

"Not at all sir, it is my duty as a citizen to assist the police force." Daniel threw a sheepish grin.

Wesker pulled his pale hand back, not bothering himself to listen to the man's silly answers in an attempt to look innocent. He left the about-to-faint man behind him, as he took slow steps for the entrance.

Jill trailed behind Wesker and the rest of the STARS members to the entrance. Within fleeting moments every single officer left for RPD Police Station, leaving the Alpha team members behind to get thoroughly lectured by Wesker.

"Instead of leaving for your warm cosy homes, I want each and every one of you to kindly head for police station, to hand evidence over to the required staff," he ordered and left the farm along with Barry and Chris.

"How on earth am I going to go home…?" Brad complained, standing far behind the car rolling down the thin wet road.

"I have a car Brad…No one is leaving you behind." Jill clapped on his head.

"Jill… You know, you can be nice sometimes." Brad scratched his wet head that had been left quite frizzled under the light downpour.

"I know." She threw a warm smile, and led him to the car standing alone at the corner.


	3. Chapter 3: Victim’s Identity

**Chapter Three: **Victim's Identity

The day's work at the office began with the usual spell of chaos. Chris's harrowing experience from searching files, and Brad's uneasiness were mounting the pressure in office. His uneasiness forced him to put on a spurt as he frantically arranged the files on his desk, sending a few pages flying across the desk.

Jill slumped over the table, slightly craned her neck to look at the clock. It was already 5 pm, well past the noon time. Eight painful hours had passed by without any clue about the postmortem or the collected evidence.

She put the pen aside and pulled herself back on the chair. Her eyes were propped by force of her dignity; she had never felt this tired in her entire life. Her shoulders that remained stooped for hours were left stiff and painful. They felt like a heavy log on her body that was about to fall apart.

In those long hours filled with painful internet browsing and running helter-skelter around the city, Jill was at least able to find something. The pendent was not bought from Raccoon city. It was made of pure gold with tiny red rubies set into the holes around the etched LM. It was very expensive, and all the shop keepers guessed it to cost around a million dollars.

That was a hefty amount of cash, and only a snort-rag, stuck up snob would be able to lay a finger on it. It was beyond the reach of peasants like Jill, Brad, and even the thug-look-a-like Chris. They were just too poor to afford such things that suited the privileged.

Jill scratched her sweaty neck. The air conditioner was idle today, and the royal mechanic had decided to fix one down stairs before he took on this job. It was put out of order by another one of Chris's hissy fits. It was putting out gurgling sounds, so Chris decided to do it the old fashioned 'boot in random stuff' way.

But it did not kick start like things accidently did in Chris's own house.

"I started my fridge like this once," Chris explained proudly, crunching his teeth into an apple he had brought with himself for lunch.

Jill and the others just looked at the epitome of missing link looking down at the now broken and out of use air-conditioner. Puffs of air leaked out from the cracked pipe, but Chris felt no remorse.

"Oh well, I tried," Chris said sadly to the stoned Wesker, who sat way across Chris's table on the chair set one step higher than the others. Beads of sweat glistering on his pale white face were going to cause so much unpleasantness for him.

"This is going out of your paycheck, Redfield." Wesker stood up with such an aloof grace and pride, that the rest of the officers looked at him with awe.

His expression was cool and composed, and not to mention the fresh smell of cologne he left in his wake when he walked out of the warm as hell-hole office, leaving the rest imagining things like, "maybe he just wears a prickly-heat powder."

Yes, that just had to be it. But when the coolness of the ice-cool captain ran out of the office and the lingering sweet aroma of cologne evanesced from the room, following the captain like his obedient mutt, all glares were bent fully on Chris's face.

That was five whole hours ago. The captain was chilling out under the cool air from the machine that was a boon to man kind, leaving the rest of the suffering team with Chris who was slowly becoming a bane of their existence.

Jill's thoughts were stabbed through by the unbearable heat in the office. The little Chambers was doing all she could, running around the office and opening windows to let some cool air in. The draft cooled down Jill's face running with sweat. She relaxed a little in the chair, and picked up the abandoned note pad from her table.

She ticked the shops checked in the morning, and the snippets of information that were relevant. All the shopkeepers told her that it was purchased from France. It was some sort of new in-thing these days for the elite. All the shopkeepers gave her names of a couple of dozen French websites that specifically dealt with Jewellery designs. Her work was definitely cut out for her.

The thrill of investigation running amuck inside Jill crashed into this tall brick wall. It would take time to trace any links to the French jewelry designers. So now the weight of investigation was on luck, a bit of internet surfing, and the DNA samples from the dead body.

Brad sighed loudly, stretching out his arms. He had done nothing other than arranging the pile of files on his untidy desk. A foot away from him, Rebecca's nose was buried in book. She quickly ran the pencil over the paper put next to her under the paper weight. The paper flapped at the steady draft under the weight.

For these past few days, she had been working in spurts. Studying hard for straight few days in a row and then relaxing in the next few ones.

Rebecca's features were tightened in concentration. She was preparing herself for the huge test coming in two weeks. So the slow whistling from the slacker Chris, and the drumming fingers of the ever nervous Brad, were not enough to break her concentration.

Brad remained uneasy in his chair. His legs twitched. He finally threw them out of the chair and got to his feet. Chris was rubbing his forehead, because the tiredness was making Brad's innocently nervous walk around the office sound like two metal pipes being clanked together repeatedly.

Brad continued to walk in circles around the room, unaware that Chris's temper was rising now. Unfortunately for Jill, Wesker was cooling himself off underground; otherwise Brad would not have dared to strut around so freely in the office without some noble cause.

"Brad would you sit down already….Why are you so nervous anyway?" Jill finally turned herself fully toward the sweaty Brad.

"I…a…" he wobbled, looking absentminded.

"Just sit down, please," she said, raising her voice slightly.

She placed the notepad on the table and began the internet search. Brad fell into his chair, resuming his casual work. He appeared more than just uninterested today.

While Brad whisked the papers in the drawers and under the files, Chris's anger filled eyes were glued on him. He was more than ready to answer another one of Brad's fits of uneasiness with a full fisted knuckle sandwich.

Scrolling down the long results on Google search, Jill came across an interesting website. It had all the information about the latest Jewellery designs in Paris. She was quite surprised that quite a number of pendants held striking similarity to the one they found at the crime scene. There was a high possibility that these pendants and the one they had were made by the same person.

She quickly clicked on the designer's profile; it was a woman. Her name was highlighted, Romana Makarov.

It was hard to tell how attractive the woman was because this was just a picture, but she did not seem unpleasant to look at. Her blue eyes were agleam with shadowy expressions. Her face was attractive, and her graceful lithe neck was slightly arched to show off her gold earrings glittering at the sun. But Jill found her quite mediocre-looking, or was it just a woman thing and a spurt of jealously?

She wore something brown and furry around her long neck. It was fake animal fur, or it could be the real deal. Animal Rights activists had failed to notice this site though.

Her golden wavy hair fell loosely in curls on her shoulders like golden silk threads on her dark dress.

Jill looked at the pendent hanging around her neck. Its long chain travelled all the way to her bosom, where a round gold nugget sized pendent lay still in the picture impressed with letters RM.

She cast her eyes down the long profile filled with plenty of achievements. It was not a surprise that her age was a closely guarded secret. Females were fond of such things, and age and weight are usually on top of a woman's secret's list. Jill herself was guilty of it.

The picture was perfect. The woman's skin was glossy and blemish free. She did not look old, and had the smile and allure of a young woman. Jill thought she could be around her mid thirties. But who knew what the truth behind layers upon layers of makeup was. Then again, maybe it was her jealously talking again.

The website had up-to-date news about her visits to Raccoon City. This must have been a heart stopper for the crazed fans. Jill was not even mildly moved. She had little spare time on her hands to stay well-informed about the latest fashion trends.

Her entire existence revolved around her police-life. It was a tiring job but she chose it because this was her passion, and the voice of her poverty… some of the things were beyond her reach. Even if she paid for them all her life with this measly pay she received every month, she was doubtful that she would be able to afford them.

That pig Irons just paid her too less; these were her innocent thoughts at the sight of such nice dresses and fine jewels which all girls were best friends with. Alas, what a cruel world, only Wesker could afford such expensive glasses; their classy, mysterious Captain.

Jill tapped the pencil on the open pad, curling her lips doubtfully. Still thinking about scribbling down a few quick details about the woman, but what? No domicile, not even a telephone number, even the details of her visit were shrouded in mystery. When was she going to visit? How long would she stay? And where would she spend her days?

This lack of information brought her back to square one. As quickly as the find had excited her, the feeling faded away just as quickly. But she printed the page and took some quick notes just in case.

She was suddenly left in the shadow of pessimism. She was not too optimistic about the future of this case, but did feel a swell in her excitement from this lucky and quick find.

_Maybe this is a sign of good things to come,_ her inner voice of optimism reasoned, reducing some of the burden off Jill's chest.

"Did you find anything?" Chris asked, twitching his left eye while he stared at Brad sitting across him, minding his own business.

Jill did not reply and ran her fingers through the flowing hair that had fallen over her brown eyes.

"Yes I did," she answered, handing the printed paper over to Chris, whose face looked hotter than a roasted marshmallow. The heat in the office was boiling his remaining brains out.

"This isn't much," Chris said halfheartedly, putting the page close to a small wrecked calculator.

"You know, you say this line every time," Jill retorted on his lameness, turning her chair to face him.

"Well excuse my lameness, but I have been working my butt off going through all this trash." Chris slapped his hand on a huge pile of files next to his desk. "I cannot feel my ass, quite literally."

"You know what Chris, you have no one else to blame, but yourself. Should have kept your out-of-control leg, under control," Jill threw a quick reply at the sight of his twisted face.

Jill got to her feet, arching her back a little to relax. She looked around the office, and asked the man who did not want to be busy with files, "where is everyone?"

"Rebecca was called by Dr Shaw and Brad." He cast a quick glance at Brad's empty chair, and then buried his nose in another file. "He probably ran off somewhere again."

Chris placed the file in the black cardboard box lying on top of his small untidy desk. He looked at Jill, who looked back at him. "Maybe we can ask the airport staff about her arrival, but I think we might need the court order for that one."

"Barry might be able to get the permission. We are dealing with a homicide after all," she said smoothly, taking a quick glance at the office clock hanging well above Rebecca's chair. It was large enough to be seen even by Wesker, who sat at the other corner of the room. But somehow, he always looked at his own wristwatch.

"Did you find any local designs that match that pendent?" Chris asked, looking at that dreaded pile of file with intense boredom.

"No, like all those jewellers said, it's definitely a French design," she answered with even less enthusiasm.

She took small steps across the office, looking around to pass the time. Rebecca's desk was so neatly arranged. A stash of paper was held in the folder put next to a large black cup filled with pencils and pens. Rebecca's medical books were neatly arranged next to the walkie-talkie phone she left on the desk.

The radio equipment was sitting quietly next to her desk. There had been no major crimes in the city other than small theft or vandalism, which were handled by the other RPD departments. Stars had been involved in a few rescue operations, but this case was the first of its kind, for Jill at least.

But she doubted that Chris, and Rebecca had been involved in anything like that either. And Brad was certainly out of the question. Barry and Wesker were a completely different story. They were the oldest members, so maybe they took part in such cases before. That could explain Wesker's ultra calm nature and his composed and overly professional demeanour.

Jill turned around. "How long has it been since Rebecca left?" she asked, slowly walking across the files left sprawled in the small space left for walking. Wesker would be so mad.

"About fifteen minutes ago, she should have been back by now." Chris rose to his feet, closing the box of files.

Rebecca staggered into the office, out of breath and slightly scared. She had probably seen the dead body.

"You okay Rebecca?" Jill asked, looking at fear possessing Rebecca's face.

Rebecca pressed her hand to her chest; she ran all the way up here. "Wesker sent be to call both of you," she said; her voice out of breath and forced.

Jill felt thrill welling inside her.

"Did he find something important?" she quickly asked.

Rebecca strained a fake smile as she was troubled to tell the grisly details. Jill stopped herself from troubling the girl anymore and spoke softly, lightly patting her back. "Ok let's go."

Rebecca moved her eyes around the office.

"Where is Brad?" she asked, looking at the files piled up at the side of Brad's office desk, and the papers left sprawled out on the floor.

"Don't worry about him, he is not coming." Chris chuckled with amusement.

Jill moved her head sideways, because Chris was right. The autopsied body would be enough to send Brad sprawling on the floor.

Rebecca made an odd oblivious face at Chris's remark and led both of them all the way to the underground autopsy area.

When Jill opened the door, a waft of chilly air passed over her, fanning out on her warm face. It felt like fresh soft December snow was cooling her face.

Wesker and Barry stood close as usual. Barry turned his gaze at the door, but Wesker maintained his usual stoic self, and did not bother himself to see who showed up, and who was ill-mannered enough not to.

Rebecca cautiously approached Wesker, as if he was a wild animal in a gentlemanly disguise and would bite her head off if she interrupted his socialization.

"Sir," she began timidly, trying to get a bit of his precious attention.

Wesker slowly turned his light blue eyes, looking down at the officer who was approximately about the size of his leg. He appeared typically impassive, giving the feeling that he had much more significant matters to solve.

"Brad was not in the office." She stepped back, thinking that she had unleashed the bad hoodoo inside.

"I can see that Miss Chambers." He crossed his arms, bending his full attention upon the gurney again. "I told him to tend to the Helipad. I doubt he would have been much help to anyone if he was here."

For a fleeting moment, Jill saw a wisp of a smirk on Wesker's pale face, but it disappeared quickly.

Rebecca nodded to herself and quickly whisked behind Chris and Jill.

"Well let's start," Dr Shaw said loudly, veering the course of conversation. He was well past his middle-age, highly qualified forensic pathologist, the best in Raccoon City.

Presently he was muffled up in light blue cotton shirt and a cap of similar shade; his white hair was unruly under the soft cap. His hands were covered with plastic gloves that were stained with fresh blood.

He held a sharp surgical knife in his right hand. Joseph his young, attractive assistant and a medical student stood obediently next to the bared dead body lying on top of the bed. His hair was long, and a long ponytail was sticking out from under his cap. He could not have been a day older than nineteen. Rebecca was staring at him with full curiosity.

The body was cut open, dark blood was smeared over the white sheet underneath. Despite the fact that the room was ventilated, a vague smell of blood was persistent in air. If the room was not properly ventilated, it would have been impossible to stand there, or even breathe.

"The woman," Dr Shaw cleared his throat, and began, "her name is Melissa Rose, Twenty six years old… this poor little thing," he gasped out the last word sadly.

He paused and moved the knife over her already cut-open throat.

"Does she live in Raccoon city?" Jill asked anxiously, clutching the open pad in her hand.

"Yes yes…she was Born and raised here. However her parents moved abroad few years back." The old man walked slowly around the gurney, his eyes downcast.

"She was the only daughter, and all her family lives in Germany, so this explains that no one filed a police report," Joseph explained. "She had been missing for forty hours."

"Cause of death is this deep cut in the throat. Irreplaceable damage done to the bronchi…It is not possible that any one would have survived." The mature man stopped close to the head. He looked at the young woman with sad expressions, feeling grief that she was killed so horribly at such a young age.

"What about the non-consensual sex? Any DNA matches?" Jill quickly asked, scribbling away frantically at the notepad.

"That is quite a mystery actually." Dr Shaw tapped the small knife on the gurney. "She was raped, but neither the fingerprints nor the DNA match any of the Raccoon City residents or even the registered American ones. And the man raped the woman when she was still alive…The healing on the interior walls suggests that." He pointed at the computer images.

"Well, this is all I can tell you." He stood straight, looking at the quiet Wesker.

"What about the pendent?" Wesker asked, looking at Chris and Jill for some sort of reasonable explanation.

"I have gathered this," Jill said, handing the paper over to Wesker. He looked at it keenly. His eyes intently fixed on that Romana woman, as if he knew her.

"Barry, take permission from the court and find out more about this woman," he commanded quickly and left the room with two doctors.

Jill stared at the rotting corpse; it was left in silence forever.


	4. Chapter 4: Another Victim

**Rating Warning**: This chapter contains a rape scene and violence.

**Chapter Four**: Another Victim

Emilia, an aspiring journalist became the permanent resident of Raccoon city nearly twenty years ago. She was back in the city, back to her hectic job that involved running helter-skelter around the city for tidbits of news.

Yes, she was a busy journalist but was now celebrating a month holiday for a nice foray into Irish countryside.

"Emilia dear, you look tired," the aged nanny said, looking at the young woman standing next to the photos lined on the stand.

"I am fine Nanny Laura, I am just waiting for the phone call," Emilia replied, turning around to look at the aged face of her nanny.

Nanny Laura was close to ninety, but still as active as she was in her youth. The folds on her skin and her drooping posture told the tale of her age. She was an old woman who had taken care of Emilia's mother as well.

"Just relax dear, this is your own home," Laura assured, clapping on Emilia's shoulder.

Emilia smiled in reply and looked hopefully at the phone again. "Has William called yet?"

"No dear," Laura answered, dusting the side table with a light brownish cloth." The flight got delayed due to weather, but I am sure he will call when he gets here."

"I wonder what he will bring for my thirty second birthday," Emilia mused. "Last time it was a crystal sea horse." She laughed. "I broke it the next day."

"You have always been a bit of butter fingers," Laura said, turning around.

"Maybe." Emilia smiled in reply, and took slow paces toward the black phone.

"You rest here, and I will make you some tea," Laura said, slowly walking with a deep hunch for the kitchen.

RING

The mobile sitting just next to the huge black phone vibrated with a loud ringing tone, inching to the tip of the small table all on its own.

Emilia grabbed the mobile. "Hello," she said hastily.

"Emilia, where are you?" the voice on the other side said. It was an excited and slightly crazed voice.

"At my home Morgan, enjoying a nice, much needed vacation," Emilia said, pursing her lips. The excitement in her boss's voice meant nothing but bad news. It must be a murder case, and there had been an upsurge in crimes in the last five years.

"What the hell are you doing there?" Morgan screamed, drowning out the car horns on the road. He was probably stuck in traffic jam.

"I gave you an application for leave, Morgan. And as I recall, because my memory has yet to give up on me, you actually approved of it," she said, raising her own voice to match his.

"Leave, at a time like this? Completely out of the question," he said in such a manner that it felt like a retort against some offensive insult.

"I have to pick my family from the airport." Emilia paced around the small drawing room, looking around at Victorian chairs and the bright morning sunlight slanting on their armrests.

"Watch where you are going," Morgan screamed like a typical short-tempered man.

Emilia rolled her eyes, recalling another incident like that on the road. The other man did not watch where he was going and got collared and dragged to the ground by her raging boss. It took several people to pull him off the young man, and settle the huge mess over a small scratch on his black Sedan with one thousand dollars.

Running a newspaper was not an easy business, but Morgan's frequent spells of flaring temper made all his lowly workers always say, "yes sir". And that is all he ever asked for.

Journalism at Raccoon city was a very tricky game. If the stories fell short of general public's great expectations, the news paper's ratings fall dramatically. And that just stirred the raging monster within Morgan, who randomly fired a few people over petty little errors because the stories were not spicy enough for his taste.

"Someone got butchered at Dorel Farm about two days ago," Morgan said in a leveled voice that had a heavy import of excitement.

"So, you want me to go there in an undercover sort of way," Emilia said straightforwardly, knitting her brow.

"Oh yes, definitely. Don't bother yourself about your family, I'll send a car to pick them up from the airport," he said laughing.

"What about the police? This case must be classified," she asked, listening to the distant sounds of traffic.

"That is taken care of," he answered quickly, because he knew how to play his cards right, and this would not be the first time when a classified police case would get highlighted as a comical slur in his newspaper.

"I hope you were careful, because if I get caught, you will end up in hot water as well…This I promise you," Emilia threatened; his temper never scared her in the least bit. Maybe he was just too fond of her brazen ways.

"Let us not step over the line," he said in a low voice.

"I am not… just being honest," she said smoothly, shrugging her shoulders.

Morgan remained quiet for a few moments, then he spoke loudly as usual. "You will question two men, Lushun and Billy. I have already sent Robert over there. He should be waiting for you at the farm's entrance."

"How incredibly generous of you," she said sarcastically.

"Just doing my job. Now you do yours and report at the office at 02:00 pm. Understand?" Morgan screamed out his last words and ended the call.

"Is something the matter Emilia?" Laura appeared from behind the curtains hung down in front of the kitchen door, carrying a small tray with tea and a few chocolate biscuits.

"Nothing Nanny." Emilia picked the cup from the tray, and sat next to the black phone. "William and kids will be picked up by Morgan. I have to go out, something came up."

Laura looked at her questioningly. "Are you going to work again dear?"

Emilia nodded in response, taking small sips from the large tea up.

"I will be back soon," she said, crunching the chocolate biscuit.

Laura frowned angrily." Honestly, this duty of yours has drained the rosy colour from your cheeks."

Emilia whisked the crumbs off her white shirt and quickly got to her feet. "Don't worry about me nanny," she said, hastily striking for the door and grabbing keys from the table. "And please show the kids their room first. I will be back as soon as possible."

"Please take care of your self Dear," Laura said, limply following the young woman to the door.

"You just worry to much. I will be back before evening," Emilia said, turning around and waving at the old woman standing on the porch.

Doral Farm was on the outskirts of Raccoon City. The rainy season and the frequent passages of trucks had made deep ruts in the road. Mayor had promised to get them repaired, but so far, the project probably lay abandoned on his desk. Maybe he was saving it for his coming election campaign.

The lake was close to the farm. Emilia used to come here often for picnic with Nanny Laura, and rest of the family. If anyone stood at the top of the small mountain just south of the lake, they would see a huge round hole filled with lake's crystal clear water. The whole lake was surrounded by countless trees, dotting the green landscape.

Emilia slowed the car's speed and cast her gaze downward at the lake, and the small almost wisp like curls running on its surface. The cool winds and the yellowing leaves were hinting at the arrival of autumn.

She caught a glimpse of a man foolishly crossing the road out of the corner of her eye. Her reflexes responded automatically and she pressed her foot down on the brake with full force. Emilia got thrown forward, and the car stopped after a long, heavy screech.

Emilia was breathing heavily. Her head was on the steering, and her hands were trembling on her chest. She lifted her head and looked at the man standing alive and well just in front of the car.

She drew a deep sigh, and looked back at the long black tyre marks left running for about seven to eight meters behind the heavy car. She brought her attention forward, and looked at the man standing calmly as if nothing had happened.

"Are you alright?" Emilia asked, combing her hair left in disarray after such a narrow squeak.

The man leisurely approached the window and grinned happily. "The beautiful lady is kind."

Emilia could feel her heart racing, and her breath catching in her throat at the sight of this rough looking man, who looked like he had just escaped from a mental institution.

Long tatters ran to his sleeves, and his dirty clothes were dotted with something dark brownish. They must have been grey, or perhaps white, but Emilia could not tell. And the strange odour given off by him, there was no hiding it.

"Thank god," she sighed out, and ran her eyes over his filthy hair that had dried into large, dirty blond clumps. He probably had not seen the shower for over a year or two.

He stood slumped over the window, ogling her with a disgusting leer playing about his lips. The ghastly look in his eyes was making Emilia's golden hairs stand on ends. He looked mentally disturbed, and she was now regretting she had stopped the car for him.

"Would the charming lady like to step out of the car?" he asked casually, appearing distant. His features were twisted into an odd expression and he was breathing quite heavily now.

"Excuse me?" she asked, surprised.

But before she could react or pull up the window, the man pulled a knife on her. He put it on her throat. Her fair skin trembled under it.

"Would the pretty lady step out of the car?" he asked again, in an unchanged throaty voice.

Emilia said nothing and slowly stepped out of the car. Her heart was beating faster and faster. She could not think it could beat any faster than this.

She slowly moved her eyes and caught a glimpse of Doral Farm's board through the tree leaves. It was only a kilometer away. If she could somehow run inside the forest, she would be able to give him a slip.

The man craned his head and looked skyward absentmindedly. Availing this moment, Emilia kicked him between the legs and broke for the signboard, leaving him curled up on the ground twisting in pain. She ran into the forest as fast as she could, hoping to find the farm somehow.

Emilia ran frantically through the dense forest, moving the long branches out of her way. The ground under her feet was soggy with rain and fallen leaves. But she kept running in one direction, not even stopping for a second to catch her burning breath.

And then she saw it, the brown picket fences of the farm and the tall handsome young man pacing back and forth just next to the huge sign post.

She huddled over a huge toppled tree, huffing and took a deep breath. She let it out with equal force, taking two steps forward, "ROBERT."

Emilia's breath was shaky, and not loud enough. Robert turned his head a little her way, and then he looked straight ahead. He had not heard her.

She took another step forward, puffing from that frantic run. Her knees were buckling under her body that felt so heavy and weary. She slipped a little but regained her balance.

Emilia opened her mouth and gulped down lungful of air to scream again, but got pulled back harshly. This time, she let out a loud scream for help, "ROBERT HELP."

She got dragged back into the dense forest, Robert and the farm was out of her sight again. The man tied a rope around her neck, and gave a sharp pull. Emilia fell to the ground, feeling her breath get shut off against her will. Her throat burned badly as it tightened around her neck.

That man was going to kill her…

He had no intentions of abandoning her there as he dragged her still alive, but half conscious spent body through the forest like some dried out log he was so leisurely towing.

Emilia could see her green dress getting dirtier, as her body got pulled over the mud. Her clothes had turned a strange shade of green, but she could not tell through her blurring eyes. The sharp dry branches scraped her thighs, leaving thin fresh bruises.

Her throat ached with dryness, and her fingers trembled desperately as she tried in vain to pull the thick rope away from her neck. It was suffocating her to the point that it felt insufferably painful.

The man suddenly stopped, abandoning her for a few moments to gather her lost senses and bit of scattered strength.

But a foreign feeling of intense fear washed over her again, as she felt the man's fingers brushing her inner thighs.

Emilia coughed violently in protest, pulling the rope away from her neck. Clean fresh air flowed into her lungs, giving her a bit of strength.

"SOME…ONE …H…ELP …M…ME," She gave forth a sputtering scream.

Her voice trembled and wobbled, but it did not stop her to let out another scream, "H…HELP ME."

The man gave a strange, maniacal laugh, not bothering to gag Emilia, because there was little chance that anyone heard her weak cry.

Tears furrowed her dry skin. Her entire body was numb with near death suffocation. A scream automatically tore itself from her throat, when the man gave a deep cut on her inner thigh with the knife. Warm blood quickly spurted out of the cut and then she felt a sharp pain travel through her body.

Emilia had no idea when he removed her underwear, as now he seemed to searching for something absentmindedly. She tried to struggle, but her worn-out body lay still under him.

He drove into her without warning. It felt extremely painful, as if a sharp knife was ripping her insides apart. She could not think of anything now, and screamed violently as he brutally raped her on the cold muddy ground.

He kept thrusting into her for sometime, and then stopped. Out of the haze of pain, her breath got caught in her throat at the sight of the sharp knife in his right hand. And then he stabbed her…once, then twice…

Emilia's body jumped off the ground with each stab. Red blood jutted out of her stomach in spurts. The pain was so much that it sealed her voice, her lips, and her breath. She was dying so quickly that she could no longer feel any pain.

The strength was quickly leaving her body. Her sight was diming, and the pain was quickly subsiding. When he touched her now, she felt nothing, but still, she could hear the sound of her name wafting to her from somewhere in the forest.

Emilia opened her eyes, seeing the blackness around her get scattered. She was surrounded by lights and medical equipment. William was sleeping. His head was lying close to her right arm.

She was alive.


	5. Chapter 5: Unconstructive Progress

**Chapter Five**: Unconstructive Progress

Tucked up in hospital bed, Emilia tried to move but her body was numb from all the painkillers. She darted her eyes around the room. It was impossible to see anything through her misty eyes.

She moaned slightly in frustration. William sat up straight. He wiped the sleepiness from his eyes, and looked down at his almost unconscious wife. Half her face was covered with oxygen mask, fogged by her slow breaths.

William took her hand in his clasp and brushed it tenderly. "Emilia, can you hear me?" he asked in a shaky voice.

Emilia replied with a small moan and a few blinks.

"It is going to be fine, don't you worry." He raised her frail hand and planted a few gentle warm kisses on it.

He gently put it on the bed again, and brushed her golden bangs aside. Tears streaked his face. They were a happily married couple, how could this have happened to them? Perhaps misfortune was his family's prize after a long period of good luck and happiness.

William wiped away his tears, and turned his attention to the female doctor and another woman.

"She just woke up, and then dozed off again," he informed the doctor who was busy examining Emilia.

She raised the white sheet and carefully tapped her fingers around the wound and the cracked skin stitched at several places. After she was satisfied, she covered Emilia's healing wound again.

"It is a good thing that she did." She stood straight and scribbled details on her folder. "Because rest is very important for her in this state."

"She will be…"

"She is completely out of danger, and will be just fine," the doctor said kindly, cutting him off quickly.

She stretched her lips in a warm consoling smile, patting William's shoulder lightly. He smiled weakly and turned his gaze to Jill who was observing the peacefully sleeping woman.

"I am sorry, but who might you be?" he asked curtly, looking at the casually dressed woman.

Jill turned to face William. "I apologize, I should have introduced myself." She held out her hand. "My name is Jill Valentine, and I am a member of STARS alpha team."

William stretched his hand and shook it hesitantly, flicking a strange glance at her; he looked unconvinced. Jill pulled her hand back, and reached for her jeans pocket. She pulled out a shinning badge with letters STARS etched on its metallic surface attached with an ID and a tiny photograph.

"Did you find any clue that who did this to my wife?" he asked suddenly, lifting his eyes to meet Jill's.

Jill shoved the badge deep in her pocket. "Actually we were informed of this not long ago, so we have just started the investigation about what happened to your wife and who was involved."

"I see…"William said dully.

"Actually…" Jill looked at Emilia. "…I came here to take some statements from your wife. But it seems that she is incapable at the moment." She turned her head and met William's eyes again, who was intently looking back at her.

"Do you think your wife had any enemies ... any one, a family member, an acquaintance perhaps?"

"No, she does not have any relatives aside of one nanny Laura, and the rest of my family lives in France. As far as the enmity goes then my wife is not the kind of person to get herself involved in such things. She is a very busy woman."

"Anyone else, maybe a colleague?"

William cupped his chin, thinking. "My wife always shares her daily office activities. She never mentioned any problems during her office hours, not even once."

Jill gave his firm answer a fleeting thought. She took one step and extended her hand again. "Thank you for your time."

William only rubbed his hand with hers half-heartedly.

"There two guards outside for your wife's safety. Please inform me whenever your wife is capable enough to provide us with some information." Jill scribbled her cell-phone number on her tiny pad. She ripped the paper off the pad and handed it over to William.

She walked outside with the doctor.

"Any guesses, how long will it take for her to recover from this state?" Jill asked the doctor.

"My guess is at least one week." She closed the open file clasped in her hand. "The wound was very deep. If her colleague hadn't found her, I don't think we would have been able to save her."

The female doctor raised her hand, and adjusted the black rimmed glasses with her index finger; her blue eyes appeared murky behind the thin glass. A smile crept on Jill's face. She shook the doctor's hand, who had other patients to attend to.

Jill turned around and looked at Chris interrogating Robert. She walked for the two men sitting on the waiting bench. When she got closer, Chris stood up and took the patient's report from her hand.

"Emilia is fine." Jill said softly when see saw that Robert was eying her with distraught hovering in his eyes. He sighed deeply and buried his face in his hands. Jill stepped away from Robert for privacy.

"Did you question Emilia?" Chris asked, flicking through the pages.

"No…And we won't be able to at least for a few more days due to her condition."

"This is pretty useless for the time being then," he said indifferently, and closed the red cover.

"I suppose." Jill folded her arms, and moved a tuft of brown hairs behind her ear. "Did you ask Robert about Emilia's attacker?"

"Nope," he replied quickly.

"Then what have you been doing all this time?" Jill gave him an irritated look.

"I was talking about the latest air force recruitment policies. Honestly, the kind of people that serve our forces these days. I am actually stunned how much these journalist types know about such things." Chris did seem quite impressed by the young man.

"You are such a time waster," Jill said bluntly, and took a few paces towards Robert.

He looked quite tired, as he had been waiting for Chris to question him for the past ten hours. He rubbed his eyes harshly to keep himself awake and safe from heavy attacks of drowsiness.

Jill sat down next to Robert. "Robert." She squeezed his shoulder. He sat straight with a jerk, and turned his head at her. He looked sleepy with his dark circles, and red-flecked eyes.

"Can you tell me what exactly happened? I mean how did you find Emilia?"

Robert put his palm on his forehead, and sighed. "I…I was waiting just out side the entrance of Doral farm."

"For Emilia?"

Robert nodded in response, and scratched his neck. "Mr. Morgan, the head of our newspaper had told us to interview the farm owner."

Jill's face cracked into a small smile. "How did he come to know of the murder?"

Robert gave a soft laugh. "Miss Jill we are journalists, and we also have our sources."

Jill moved the pen on the pad, and gestured him to continue.

"I had briefly questioned the owner about the murder."

"How did he respond?" Jill asked, cocking her eyebrow.

"I am sorry but that's classified. If you want to know anything then you will have to contact my boss, I am not stupid enough to lose my job."

Jill gave a pat on his back. "Do not worry one of my colleague's already questioning him."

"That is fine with me." Robert threw his arms forward and let out an odd sound, stretching his muscles. After a second he withdrew his arms and put them over his parted thighs.

"Please continue."

"Well, I was waiting when I caught one fleeting glimpse of a woman dressed in light green clothing…" he paused a little, rubbing his auburn stubble.

"How did you know she was Emilia?"

Robert chuckled sarcastically and brought his eyes on Jill, "I have worked under Emilia for about two years now; I think that I can recognize her without guessing."

"It is not about guesses Mr. Robert. How did you know for sure that she was the same person?" Jill slipped her one leg over the other, and tapped the pencil on the open pad.

"Because she was waving at me, and I even heard her call out my name."

"Then what happened?" Jill ran the wooden pencil through her light brown hair.

"I saw a man, and then she just simply vanished behind the trees within the blink of an eye."

"Did you see that man's face?"

Robert shook his head in frustration. "No he was too far I…I couldn't."

"So you followed them?"

Robert shifted a little. "That was the only possible solution I could think of. Luckily Mr. Lushun and his cousin Billy were nearby."

"You took them along?"

"Yes…Better safe than sorry," Robert said, wiping a trailing bead of sweat from his forehead.

"Did you see the man when you got in the forest?" Jill moved to fully face Robert.

"The only thing I could hear were my colleague's screams…When I got there the man was gone…Leaving her in that state…"

"So you were the one who called for an ambulance precisely at 12:45 pm."

Robert lightly nodded and lowered his head. Jill stood up, thinking that the man knew nothing more.

"Mr. Robert thank you so much, you can leave now."

Robert looked at her with a vague look in his eyes. He stood up, shook their hands, and left silently. Jill bent her attention on the cell phone, beeping and vibrating inside her pocket. She took it out and put it against her ear.

"Jill I have taken Morgan's statements, however they will not help us in any way. Also Romana Makorov will arrive at the airport at 05:00 pm and will leave for her private home close to Archley forest colony," said Barry on the Phone.

Jill closed her pad and slipped the tiny pencil between the pages.

"You can question her at her home; note down the address…"

Jill snatched the pointer from Chris's hand and moved it over her palm.

"…House #240 A, Street # 7."

"Thanks Barry."

She handed the pen back to Chris and ended the call.


	6. Chapter 6: Humble Abode

**Chapter Six**: Humble Abode

It was not a little private home Jill was expecting to find, but a huge manor looming behind the thick fog. It looked like a beautiful ghost manor in one of those infamous horror movies, but Jill couldn't quite put her finger on it.

The manor looked giant, standing proudly at the tip of the small mountain, looking down at the small village close to the lake. A stony path branching from the main road was lined with red rose bushes on each side. The roses looked like hazy rubies, clinging to the green thorny twigs.

The trees standing behind the flowers covered the path above the road. Their branches were intertwined with each other, desperately reaching out for the middle from opposite sides. Only small flecks of light made through their thick branches.

Jill turned the car onto the rough road tjat was large enough for a single car. The gravel crunched under the tires, and the small jeep bobbed on the long ruts in the road. Jill could barely see the edges of the road and turning the headlights on was not helping much either, as the light was being scattered by the thin film of fog.

Frustrated, she turned the headlights off, squinting her eyes and looking around at the leaves glittering with dews and fresh beams of sun bursting through the scattering clouds. The weather was starting to get better again.

Next to her, Brad sat quietly in his chair. His head was hung to one side, and he had been looking outside the window ever since he sat in the jeep. He yawned, putting his hand on his gaping mouth. He turned his head and looked ahead.

"Finally," Brad sighed out. "I think I see the house," he said, leaning his head forward to take a good look at the house standing beyond the end of the road.

Jill raised her head slightly and looked at the large house. The manor's high walls were completely swallowed up by the twisting vines. Patches of grayish wall were peeking from behind the green.

Jill pulled her eyes away and brought them back on the twisting road ahead. The windows were still rattling, and Jill and Brad were jumping a little in their seats. There were a few stumps of trees here and there.

"The trees have probably been cut from this area to make this comfortable road", Jill complained.

"Uh Huh," Brad gave a short reply, flipping the huge map over in his lap. He was tallying the area with the map.

The sun had slid out of view again, and the road completely disappeared behind shade and the thickening fog.

Jill let out a loud sigh, frustrated how they had been unable to get to point B from A, which were in fact only a hundred metres apart. Brad stretched his arm, and flicked the little bulb on. His light blue eyes were moving up and down the tiny notes scribbled on the map. He looked quite busy in his little work.

Brad tapped his finger on the chart. "Jill…" he said, moving the other hand to clamp on her shoulder.

Jill kept looking forward. She applied the brakes in front of the large black gate. Long bars were fixed between the outer structures at equal intervals, glistering with tiny rain drops sliding down their finely polished surface.

Jill cast her gaze on Brad, and slightly lowered it to look at the large red circles drawn on the map.

"This is where the first murder took place." His brushed his finger over the large, round red circle and then traced a path to the other. "And this is where the other woman almost got killed," he continued.

Jill turned her eyes slightly. "They are not that far from one another," she said thoughtfully.

"Very close to the lake," Brad said lowly and rolled the map.

Jill grabbed the cap hanging over the car's steering. She pulled it on her head and tucked her brown hair up inside it. She adjusted the back mirror and looked at her fair, composed reflection.

Barry had made a mistake with Romana Makarov's address. They had to consult Morgan, as one of his employees had interviewed Romana Makarov in her private home about her latest jewellery collection and upcoming designs.

Calling Romana Makarov for questioning would have alerted her, so the best possible solution was to contact the French authorities, or intelligence sources.

Jill and Barry had contacted all three, including Morgan; so there was no room for even a small error. The only thing left now was to take her statements related to the pendent found at the murder site.

This woman was in fact the only glimmer of hope for them to progress this case further, and push it closer to its end, so that the criminal behind these brutal crimes could be unmasked.

However if she did not provide any useful information, then the team would end up back to the crime's basis and their theoretical guesses.

The reality was like a sword hanging over Jill's head, or perhaps she was grasping at straws, because she was still quite unsure whether such a rich woman would even bother herself to cooperate with the police. There was a definite possibility that any association with such a murder to her name could result in a huge damage to her public image.

But taking her statements and making her cough up some useful piece of information, which the team was so hungrily looking for, were two very different and tricky games altogether.

This required experience with criminals and other social misfits, and this is something Jill did not have. So Wesker had decided to go ahead with Barry. He would question her, and Barry was there to look into her customer database.

Jill was called there to offer a small role of assistant in the cross-examination, whereas Brad was to thoroughly study the map layout of this entire area, because of his good skills with maps and navigation. Jill was clearly left with the boring job.

She moved her hand up and stroked a few bangs handing down from the cap. She cast one last fleeting glance at the mirror, and then pushed it back up.

"It seems that they were expecting us," Brad said dully, diverting Jill's attention.

She turned her gaze to the faint screeching sound of the gate's nails grinding with one another.

An unknown man dressed in uniform - possibly one of the guards - slowly moved the heavy gate to the left, its other half was slightly rocking with the silent wind.

"Wesker did come here before us," She said halfheartedly, narrowing her eyes on the huge black jeep that was about twice the size of her own. "He must have told Romana we were also coming", she continued and hastily ran her hand over the front window, wiping the droplets collected at the inner surface with a sharp squeak.

"I suppose," he answered back dully, slightly frightened whether he will be able to impress Wesker with his theory that the criminal most certainly lives somewhere near the lake or not.

Jill looked at worry slowly forcing itself on his face. Its sluggish progress was not that hard to observe. His pale face was running with sweat, and his ears were completely red now.

Jill stretched her hand, clamping his shoulder. Brad threw her an innocent but worried look.

"You worry yourself too much Brad." Jill calmed him slightly. "You have made fine analysis." She slightly squeezed his stiff shoulder that relaxed in response.

Jill withdrew her hand when she saw Brad getting inch by inch closer to his normal carefree self; his tightened features were slowly starting to relax.

He rubbed his forehead, wiping away all traces of worry and eased in the chair, looking quite relaxed.

Jill looked at the open gate and the man standing beside it; his fingers were firmly closed around the thick bar to prevent the gate from shaking.

Jill looked around, and then slowly lifted her boot from over the pressed brake. Its tires slipped over the thin layer of water that covered the even ground, as it smoothly moved forward.

Even if only one side of the gate was open, the space was large enough for Jill to easily move her car through it. The sky had gotten sombre again. Thick clouds were rolling in, and it looked like a rainy storm was about to break.

The spell of rain was docile, and the wind remained unchanged. It was still pleasant and light, and was not a hindrance to the light drizzle's straight path. The rain was pressing on the window, making it difficult to look outside.

Jill stopped the car close to the entrance; its border was crescent shaped and one step higher than the ground. The door behind it had flower designs on it.

Jill pulled the car key out, and stepped out into the chilly space. The gentle waft of cool wind outlined her face, leaving a chilly sensation on her skin.

The manor was well maintained. Jill swept her eyes around the garden that directly faced the entrance, and the round balcony on the first floor. A marvelously crafted stone sculpture graced the centre of the green lawn. Its long, strong wings were spread out; almost giving the feeling that it would come to life any second.

Colourful flowers stood around it, circling it completely. The vines that covered the entire outer walls were growing up from the corners of the large lawn. Their branches were travelling up the high walls, and then progressing on the other side, their newly sprouted leaves were glistering beautifully.

"Miss Jill."

Jill turned around and eyed the old man standing next to the open door.

"Miss Romana is expecting you, and your colleague," he informed, and gestured them to step inside.

Jill nodded, and a flicker of courteous smile ran across her face.

She cautiously made her way inside, closely followed by Brad who darted his eyes around every possible and visible corner, thinking that perhaps they were being led into some sort of ambush.

When they stepped in, Brad jumped a little when the old servsant closed the door behind them. He stood still and silent for a moment.

"This way please," the servant said and started walking slowly through the hall. He took slow steps towards the end of the hall. There was a deep stoop to his back. Jill took one step but stopped immediately when she felt Brad's hand on her shoulder.

"What is it?" she asked, keeping her voice low when she saw the servant stop his slow walk a few feet away from them.

"Look," Brad said as he pointed towards a large portrait hanging at the end of the hall.

A confused expression crept on Jill's face as her eyes studied the woman in the portrait standing next to a man. Identical pendants were draped around their necks, only with different etched letters, RM and LM.

"They look identical…Even those pendants," Brad said almost with awe. "Maybe they are twins." He moved his stiff index finger up and down; his features clearly gave away his surprise.

Jill on the other hand remained silent, though equally stunned as Brad. She was thinking of different possibilities. One of them being the solid fact that identical letters proved nothing; thousands of people share identical names and these were just mere letters.

"How can you be so sure that they are twins?" Jill channeled her doubts into an entirely different question.

"Well." Brad paused, rethinking his earlier theory. "Their features are remarkably similar. If they are not twins then they must be cousins, or simply brother and sister," he said with his gaze still fixed on the portrait, moving up and down to observe other details.

Jill couldn't help but agree; this was a fact but facts always had room for minor possibilities.

"That's Mr. Leonard Makarov," the old man said from some distance away. His calm voice seemed quite loud in the empty space. "Miss Romana's older brother. He passed away five years ago," he ended with grief visible on his weary and aged face.

"How did he pass away?" Jill's lips moved automatically before she could even stop herself.

"He died in a tragic car accident in France," he concluded sadly and stood silent, waiting for Jill's reply.

"I am sorry," Jill replied softly.

"Your colleagues are with Miss in the drawing room…would you care to look around or…"

"No thank you," Jill quickly cut him off. "We would like to meet Miss Romana," Jill said quickly, but kept her voice calm and levelled.

"Very well," the old man answered back, and started walking for the black curtains hanging down from the steel bar.

Jill shook Brad's shoulder lightly, who was still intently looking at the jewels or most probably Romana's pretty face.

Brad turned his gaze and met Jill clam, light blue eyes.

"She is pretty isn't she? Or is it just the portrait?" she said sarcastically.

Brad returned her gaze for a second or two.

"Jill," Brad said, blushing a light shade of pink.

"Let's go." Jill stretched her eyes to put some emphasis on the fact that they were getting late with all this sightseeing.

Brad did not reply and started walking behind Jill.

Their steps were small, but even the lightest of steps produced a high-pitched sound when their heavy office boots made contact with the slippery marble floor beneath them.

The old man raised the curtain and gestured both young officers to make their way into the corridor. The corridor was wide and decorated with paintings and traditional lanterns hanging on both sides.

Jill walked slowly, glimpsing at the paintings shining under the light emitting from the lanterns hanging above. She stopped at the entrance of the drawing room.

It was spacious and beautifully decorated. The dark colour combinations were giving a feeling of warmth and cosiness. Jill swept her eyes around the room that was not that well-lit. Wesker was sitting close to Barry and apparently quite busy as his blue eyes had still not left the laptop screen, even though he was aware Jill had just entered the room.

Romana sat just a metre or two away from them. She was looking at them pokerfaced with a fragile glass delicately held in her right hand.

She moved her eyes and met Jill's. She did not say a few words of welcome but just waved her hand a little, telling Jill that she was allowed to enter the room and settle herself on the sofa.

Jill, for the better word obeyed and took the sofa across her.


	7. Chapter 7: Small Talk

**Chapter Seven: **Small Talk

Jill cocked her gaze slightly to look at Wesker's eyes. They were always cleverly concealed behind those flashy black glasses. It was impossible to tell whether Jill's searching eyes had met Wesker's or not. Sometimes, Jill wondered why Wesker wore them in shade, or even bothered to wear them today of all the days. It was truly a mystery.

Unfortunately for Jill, she neither had the authority nor the privilege to ask this question herself. Now that would probably get her a cheery reply. Wesker's entire obsession with all things black was definitely a conundrum.

Jill caught a small glimpse of Wesker's crystal blue eyes from behind the glasses.

_Wow, what fine sun glasses_, she wondered with admiration, _how much do they cost?_ She put on a thinking, spacey kind of expression holding her gaze.

She was still wondering about her self-made mystery, when Wesker's perfectly raised eyebrow caught her off guard. She twitched on the sofa and quickly directed her gaze elsewhere.

"Some kind of trouble?" Wesker asked with a straight face.

"Nothing…" Jill wobbled, and bit back the remaining words, "why do you wear sunglasses all the time? Seriously, just take a look outside…It's dark for Christ's sake," from leaving her parted lips.

Jill could feel cool beads of sweat roll down her face…her captain was still suspiciously looking at her. Strangely, an untimely feeling of nervousness just clutched her. She slipped her one leg over the other, and started shaking it.

_This is not the time to start wondering about Wesker's blue eyes,_ Jill thought and shoved her hand in her pants pocket, but she suddenly stopped. _Am I developing some sort of infatuation for my captain?_ she asked herself as she tried to look at Wesker out of the corner of her eye.

Wesker was busy looking at the contents of a red file while he was comfortably seated on a brown sofa. He lowered his head, making the dark glasses slip to the edge of his thin nose. He hastily moved his hand up, and pushed the glasses back with the edge of his index finger.

This gave Jill enough time to observe his sparkling blue eyes. She cocked her ears to try and listen to the sounds of paper. This was getting ridiculous… Jill was behaving like a silly little teenage girl recently hit with a nasty cupid's arrow, or love bug or whatever people called that unwanted feeling of fleeting crush.

This was possibly not the time to get involved in such affairs when the team had another dangerous affair on their hands. Maybe Jill thought that her hands were presently full with matters of the office… She needed a break from this dilemma.

Jill wondered what every girl wonders, or at least thinks about it once in a while regardless of her busy schedules, "when am I going to find some one special for myself?"

So far she did not have any luck in matters of the heart. Chris was too moody, Brad too…well cowardly, Barry was married, and he looked quite aged. She was left with uncannily youthful Wesker, who could easily pass for someone in their late twenties. And Jill miraculously winning a zillion dollar lottery sounded more realistic than winning her handsome Captain over even for one lousy lunch.

"Why does my life … suck so much?" Jill complained, but in a small voice.

She swept her eyes around the room and fumbled in her fanny bag to get hold of that little notepad she usually carried with her.

Romana was sitting calmly across her, but her keen gaze had not left Wesker. She looked over to Romana, and sensed a strange but vague expression evident on Romana's face. It was something close to a sense of familiar feeling which manifests on someone's face if they had met before…

_Do they know each other?_ Jill thought, observing Romana's pursed lips and questioning eyes.

_But that is impossible,_ Jill assured herself, but that look of longing and sorrow that was flickering across her young face like a lantern about to go out was highly confusing for her.

Romana hastily and suddenly tore her eyes away from Wesker, and settled her gaze upon Jill. "Would you like to have a drink?" Romana asked pleasantly.

Jill groaned at the back of her throat; her odd close-range observation had given her away.

"No thank you," Jill replied calmly and eyed Romana carefully, but her peering eyes failed to find that emotion that had already faded away from Romana's face.

"There is no need to get formal with me Miss Jill… you can…" Romana moved her hand for the vine filled fragile glass bottle.

"Miss Romana you are very hospitable and I thank you, but right now I am not in the mood to drink," Jill said bluntly. She turned her head to look at Wesker again, who had left his sofa and was examining the database with Barry.

_This is probably the right time to ask her,_ Jill thought, returning her attention to the room.

It was dark in the room, save for the slight radiance given off by the active fire in the fire place, and the tiny golden lanterns hanging below the paintings. The room seemed somewhat cozy and warm, but some of the chilliness was flittering in through the partially open windows.

The cool draft was making the fire dance wildly in the fireplace. Its dominating influence was forcing small sparks out of the fire that were being randomly thrown on the steel plate set in front of the fireplace.

Jill pulled her eyes away and brought them back on Romana. "Have you lived here before?" Jill asked hesitantly, keeping her voice down.

Romana threw her a questioning look, but quickly changed that serious emotion that had just crossed her face a fleeting moment ago.

"Why do you ask?" she asked rather offhandedly.

"We are investigating this case and it is a simple question…Just tell me, yes or no."

Romana took a long sip from her nearly empty glass, and took a sharp intake of breath. "Yes," she said after a long pause, putting the empty glass next to the half filled vine bottle.

"That was pretty obvious, as this house appears to be well-maintained and well-used." Jill jotted down a few words, and flicked the brown pencil.

"There is no need to beat about the bush…Talk to the point." Romana folded her arms, and observed Jill from under her natural long lashes.

"When did you actually live here? Was it before your brother Leonard passed away?"

"I am assuming you got this information from one of my servants?" A confident smile ran across her full lips. "Regardless, I spent most of my childhood here."

"You and your brother lived separately?" Jill uncrossed her legs.

"Yes we did." Romana turned her gaze to avoid direct contact with Jill's deep, searching eyes.

"Why?" Jill asked, looking at Romana's beautiful features gather into a frown.

"We did not get along."

"Did not get along? Small sibling rivalries occur under every roof…"

"My brother was not very kind…Especially to his family." Romana cocked her head to look at Wesker again.

_If they did know each other, then it will not take long for Wesker to notice my efforts to try and make Romana give some information that connected her to him. I have to ask her now…_

"Do you know Wesker?" Jill asked straightforwardly. However, much to Jill's surprise Romana did not even bat an eyelid.

"This question came out of the blue." Romana put her hand in front of her parted lips, and gave a pleasantly soft laugh. "What gave you that idea?" She lowered her hand and settled it on her right thigh.

"Well, you keep looking at him so I thought," Jill began hesitantly, "that maybe you …"

"That maybe I happen to know him?" Romana completed Jill's half-spoken sentence quite confidently. "No Miss Jill, I have never seen your Captain until now. I was staring at him because I find him quite attractive," Romana confessed innocently, eyeing the confused Jill.

"My apologies, it was not my intention to offend you," Jill apologized as her attempts at making Romana confess came to a sudden stop. Even if they were acquaintances, Jill most probably would never be able to find out.

"There is no need to apologize Miss Jill." Romana tipped her head back and gestured her servant who left the room silently. "Do you have any more questions?" Romana turned her gaze and cast her eyes on the vine bottle again.

"Yes," Jill found her voice again. Thinking about it now, her deductions about their so-called affair were purely idiotic. Her pride had just gone cheap.

Romana stretched her hand to the vine glasses and bottle. She took them in her delicate hands and carefully poured vine in the empty glass. She lifted her gaze momentarily, then lowered it again.

"Ask away," she said quickly with a hint of irritation in her leveled, mellow voice.

"You have seen the pendent. Can you give me some details about it?" Jill asked a strange question, knowing fully well that this is what the team was checking the database for.

"I believe I have already given my answer regarding this matter to your Captain." She carefully placed the bottle aside and moved the filled glass for her coloured lips.

"I have made many pendants and necklaces for countless people, which have the same design. I made all of them keeping my own pendant's design in mind, so it should not be mind-boggling or highly shocking if you and your team came across a necklace, which looks very similar to my late brother's," she said harshly, and finished the vine in a single breath.

"I hope you are satisfied with this answer. If you are not, then you can check the database over there." Romana clenched the glass and pointed at the computer surrounded by Jill's team members.

"No." Jill peered into the back of the room and caught sight of Brad's confusion filled face. "I think your," Jill paused and suddenly got lost in unwanted thoughts, while her gaze remained upon Brad who was hunched over the computer.

"Are you finished with your inquiries?" Wesker's typical cold voice broke the silence.

"Y-yes." Jill hastily got up to her feet, and moved a small distance away from her tall, blond Captain.

"Then I suggest that you take Brad and Barry with you to the headquarters." Wesker adjusted his glasses.

"Alright," Jill gave a short answer and turned her head to see Brad standing next to Barry a feet away from her.

"I will search the remaining Database," he gave a firm command and pulled the head phone out of his ear. "I will meet up with you all at RPD."

"J-Jill…" Brad yawned, without showing any decency in front of his captain. "I am beat, let the Captain handle it. Let's get the hell out of here." Brad clamped his lips together and scratched his disheveled hairs.

"You are right; there is nothing much we can do here," Jill admitted and looked at Wesker who was standing next to the huge window. He was talking to someone on his mobile phone. "Let's go. Barry, I'll give you a ride."

Barry smiled in response and trailed behind Jill and Brad.

Wesker saw the black car leave through the main gate. He moved his hand up and clenched the curtain that was drawn back in his right hand.

"How have you been?" Romana asked with a note of longing in her voice. She raised herself to her feet and stood behind Wesker.

"This is a fine mess your brother has made." Wesker turned around. He removed his glassed and threw Romana a distant smile.

"We meet after all these years, and this is what you have to say?" Romana raised her voice, smashing the glass on the expensive rug.

"Even if I thoroughly search my memory, I do not recall us ever being," Wesker began as he slipped the glasses into his upper pocket, "lovers."

"Humph." Romana's beautiful features twisted, as she crushed the glass fragments beneath her shoes.

"I forgot, it was a one-sided affair." Wesker's eyes sparkled with amusement. "By the way; where are you hiding your beloved brother?"


	8. Chapter 8: Part 1: Romana and Leonard

**Chapter Eight: **Part** One: **Romana and Leonard

It was a new morning and a sign of the beginning of coming season. Summer had left its mark on Arkley forest. Most of the ripe fruits had fallen on the ground. They were starting to show signs of decay, as small worms had found a new home under their soft skins. The sweet smells given off by the once fresh roses had disappeared. They were drooping under the dark sky that was now welcoming autumn.

The sky was not empty. A thick veil of clouds had formed a natural cover over it. A chilly breeze sweeping across the area was gently stirring the leaves that had died and fallen off the trees not long ago. They had spent their time, and now it was the beginning of a new cycle of life.

All this scenery was being carefully observed by a pair of crystal blue eyes that were slightly murky behind the thin lens of colourless glasses. Those ever watchful eyes swept around the visible environment and stopped at the bubbling brook running through the forest.

The weather was pleasant today; even the sudden change in the temperature was bearable.

"Y-you always come here… hic." The approaching man wobbled and almost fell.

"What do you want, Leonard?" the other man asked firmly; dissatisfaction suddenly flowed across his fair face.

Leonard shook his bottle and threw it away with a sweep of his arm. The bottle fell into the stream and got swept away with the current.

"I asked, why do you always come here, Wesker? It is not that pleasant here." Leonard almost sounded sarcastic between his hiccups and snuffles … He was drunk.

Wesker turned around and eyed the other man with disgust. "And this is what the famous architect indulges himself with … Pity. I had pictured you in a different way," Wesker mocked, raising the corner of his lips slightly.

"ARE YOU MOCKING ME?" Leonard screamed in anger that was beginning to contort his features.

"I am not," Wesker smoothly answered back. "I am complementing you. There never used to be any social-freaks like you not so long ago." He pointed his index finger at him, and then slowly lowered it… Wesker looked cold as usual.

"Huh! What would you know about freaks," Leonard snarled like an untamed animal.

Wesker folded his arms and cast his gaze at the grey sky. "Of course I did not know anything about them." He brought his attention back to the confused, drunk man. "Not until I met you."

"Humph… I cannot believe my sister speaks about you, as if a murderer like you is actually a good man." Leonard scratched his arms and face.

"Murderer? Perhaps this is your drink talking or maybe you are just mad," Wesker said bluntly.

"YOU." Leonard charged at the relaxed Wesker with open jaws. His arms were spread out in a threatening manner, but before he could reach Wesker, he stubbed his foot against a rock hidden under the tall grass.

"Arghhh," Leonard hissed. His face was etched with pain.

"My toe is bleeding." He slumped onto the ground and clenched his bleeding toes.

"Yes, it appears that it is." Wesker adjusted his glasses, and lifted his gaze to look at the woman who ghosted out from behind the trees.

"Well, the lovely keeper of this animal is here." Wesker took a good look at the woman carefully approaching the slumped man, who had his teeth sunk in the flesh of his toe.

"He is an architect Wesker, there is no need to start your typical verbal jabs again," the woman spoke carefully as she tried to catch her breath.

"He is an avatar of idiocy and promiscuity. But, I am afraid no one knows this better than you, Romana." A flicker of amusement passed over his features.

"…" Romana felt her breath catching in her throat. She looked down at her brother and felt an urge to give him a good kick on his face.

"And just where have you been?" Leonard asked harshly, plucking at Romana's clean white lab coat. "Have you been working at the lab again?" he raised his voice.

"…" Roman took an intake of air, and slipped her hands in the lab coat's large pockets.

Leonard pulled her lab coat, and dragged himself up to his feet. "WELL?"

"I believe that is why I applied for a job here?" Romana replied angrily, keeping her eyes fixed on the stream ahead.

"Don't you take this tone with me; I am your older brother, I demand an explanation." Leonard raised his hands in air.

This was not your every day typical sibling rivalry. Romana hated her abusive brother. They never got along, not even when they were kids.

Romana was sharp, intelligent, and beautiful. She always upheld the laws of her family and was also thought to be their rightful scion. Leonard, on the other hand was a despicable person in every sense; corrupt, cunning, and maker of petty schemes, he was never kind to any of his family members. The only thing that poisoned him was jealously.

He always thought Romana was incompetent. She lacked the true grace and brains to run the family and bring them prosperity.

"_WHAT?" Leonard screamed, bearing his teeth in anger and disgust._

"_I have made my decision Leonard; she will be the heir to this family after my death," the middle-aged woman spoke firmly with a hint of warmth in her voice._

"_So I am a petty architect after all." Leonard clenched his trembling fists._

"_Brother." Romana took one step._

"_Silence… You will pay for your scheming Romana. I will never let you have what is rightfully mine." Leonard stretched his hand and pointed his trembling index finger at Romana in challenge._

When that day came to pass, Leonard grew even more bitter. He let no moment pass that gave him the opportunity to insult Romana or even make a plan to kill her.

Romana, even though she loved her brother, grew resentful, that feeling of unconditional love soon faded away; hatred possessed her whenever her gaze fell upon her greedy, malevolent brother … She knew that he had killed their mother.

This hunger for power had evoked something more vicious within him. He hated women and this hatred had landed him more than once in jail for assault and rape charges.

"I don't have to give any explanations to you; you stupid, inconsiderate man. I cannot believe mother is not with me any more and you are still here," Romana's voice wavered as her eyes welled up.

"That's the spirit." Wesker gave a soft, sarcastic laugh. He was enjoying Leonard's humiliation more than ever.

Romana threw Wesker a scorching glare, but quickly recovered her control as that look of anger slowly began to fade away from her charming face.

"What did you call me?" Leonard swayed from side to side under the influence of alcohol. "I am a genius." He raised his arm to praise himself. "See that manor." He slowly and unsteadily turned around. "It is my creation." He bobbed his head and emitted an unpleasantly loud laugh.

"I wonder what Spenser ever saw in you. He should have brought someone else to complete Trevor's designs." Romana cocked her gaze to look at her shabby brother. Her eyes were filled with anger.

"What did he actually see in you… y-you … WHORE," Leonard snapped, spitting saliva from his open mouth.

"Well, I never thought I would hear this from a brother's mouth. I suppose there is a first time for everything," Wesker said coldly; even he was not expecting such indecency.

"Forget about him … His days are numbered anyways." Romana pulled her hands out from the coat's pockets, and brushed a wisp of a golden hair aside from her forehead.

Wesker cocked his eyebrow. "Very…Interesting. What do you actually have in mind for my dear friend here?" Wesker asked curiously.

Romana looked down at her brother, who had dropped down on his knees and was vomiting close to the tree standing behind them.

"I doubt he is eavesdropping," Wesker said, not pulling his eyes away from Romana's.

"That is none of your business, Wesker. By the way, Birkin told me that you were looking for me?" Romana quickly changed the subject.

"This is a good way to change the subject. No matter, I will find out sooner or later," Wesker said eyeing Leonard with interest, as if he was his future test-subject. "Have you completed the tests on Lisa?"

"Yes. I have placed the results file on your table." Romana leaned her back against the tree.

"What's this? No lecture about ruining that family's life, or how incredibly cruel the researchers here are?" Wesker turned his head to observe the slumped Leonard, who looked pretty close to being permanently comatose.

"I am not interested in the other researchers," Romana said softly, and pushed her shoulder off the tree.

"I think we have gone through this over and over again. I don't have time for such affairs, Romana," Wesker replied meeting Romana's warm gaze.

"But why?" Romana sprung forward and grabbed Wesker's wrist.

"How should I explain this to you?" Wesker looked into Romana's eyes.

"Explain it to me. Don't you even pity me … I have … feelings for you." Romana firmed her hold on Wesker's wrist.

"I do pity on you, and that's why I told you to leave for your home in France. This is no place for a woman like you," Wesker said calmly, sounding serious.

Romana pulled her hand back and put it against her chest. "So this is what you want me to do?" She stepped back and lifted her gaze to the sky.

"This is not what I want you to do; this is what is good for you." Wesker observed her sad face through clear glasses.

It was hard to tell whether the sun was still shinning brightly behind the clouds or not as the sunrays were hardly making it through to strike the ground beneath them.

"What do you know what's good for me. You are an extremely selfish man," Romana rumbled, trying to suppress the sobs catching in her throat. There was a catch in her voice.

"I am actually being considerate, considering your circumstances."

It was somewhat true after all. Romana had no family except of Leonard, who was as close to her as any random murderer. She had not forgotten his attempts to get her fired from her post as one of the lead researchers. She would have left, but her relation with Wesker forced her to stay behind.

Romana met Wesker when she was still a college student at a renowned French University. She was hired to work under Alexander Ashford in T-Virus Research.

Young, energetic and, an aspiring researcher with an ambition to reach new heights, she quickly attained the post next to Alexia. However, her childhood passions for designing compelled her continue working for a fashion designer along with her brother.

Spenser recognized Leonard's talents, and offered him a decent job to work for the interior designs of his manor. Romana on the other hand had developed serious feelings for one of the lead researchers, named Wesker.

Her adoration for the serious and handsome man pushed her to apply for the Researchers job offered by Spenser; it was an open-dirty tactic by the Spenser family after all. They were offering jobs with better pays and more benefits.

It was pretty obvious how the researchers responded; most of them left Ashford family's research institute for what Spenser was offering. Alexander soon faced financial troubles, and it was not long before the competition was won by Spenser.

Romana left France with her brother just to be with Wesker; someone who was aware of her feelings but never took them seriously.

"I am going inside," Romana said sadly, taking quick steps towards the path hidden beneath the fallen leaves.

"What about your sweet brother?" Wesker asked, looking at the shabby man sprawled on the ground; half of his face was covered in his own vomit.

"Just leave him there, I don't care whether he lives or freezes to death out here." Romana paused in her steps.

"Very nice. It would be much convenient this way. You know it is better to leave him in the capable hands of the nature, than to actually kill him with your own delicate hands," Wesker made another sarcastic remark as he took slow steps for Romana.

"Just give it a rest." Romana met Wesker's keen eyes; they were always filled with some subtle emotion that was hard for Romana to name.

"I am giving your brother much needed rest. Well, it has been fun Leonard. Don't worry; he won't die that easily." Wesker tapped his hand on Romana's shoulder. "And you cannot just leave the results on my table; you have to explain them to me as well." Wesker pulled his hand back.

"I know." A pleasant smile ran across her full lips and she followed Wesker into the manor, leaving Leonard outside under the grey sky.


	9. Chapter 8: Part 2: Romana and Leonard

**Chapter Eight: **Part **Two: **Romana and Leonard

Feelings of love, guilt, and a fading effect of lust reined Romana's mind. She had somehow compelled the distant Wesker into spending some time with her in bed. It was just a romantic one-night affair from Wesker's side, who had given in to Romana's false suicide threats.

Romana was quite content with her plotting, hoping that this move will stir some emotions within him and possibly change his rigid mindset about romantic relationships.

She was determined to have Wesker more than ever, perhaps this small seed of slight-obsession bloomed into a fully grown tree that entangled her heart the very instant her gaze fell upon Wesker.

Her fleeting glances into the blissful tomorrow during those hours of restless sleepy nights, evoked new hopes for her future. Wesker was always there in those vivid illusions; somewhere out of her ever-searching sight, but not her restless mind.

The time she spent with him was relaxing and passionate. However, if this was a sign of new things to come, then she was fooling herself. Wesker was back to his old, cold and uncaring self the next day.

Her eyes searched for that burning passion she had seen in his icy-cold eyes.

However, it had faded. His eyes looked emotionless. Wesker was always busy and his mind was always calculating. Perhaps, this was the reason for his lack of interest in affairs of the heart.

Romana's plan at conquering that supposed realm of love in his heart or mind was a failure of cataclysmic proportions; nothing more, nothing less. But there was no harm in trying, and Romana was doing just that.

"I think you can effectively channel this energy else where," Wesker said, sounding almost polite. He looked busy in checking the results from the files neatly arranged on the table before him.

Romana blinked a few times and opened the closed file she had been holding it in her hand for the past ten minutes. The thoughts about their passionate long hours rushed through her mind, making her hands tremble and eyes flutter a little.

"I am checking… Thank you for reminding me for the fifth time," Romana said angrily, narrowing her eyes away from the peering eyes of a female researcher, who had taken a sudden interest in what was going on between them.

Romana resumed checking the contents of the file; at least she pretended to. She was waiting for the woman to leave, so she could interrogate Wesker.

Wesker was completely oblivious of the tempest building up inside Romana, or was just too preoccupied with his routine work. Whatever the case, he was quite engrossed in the calculations that he did not bother to even look at Romana who was standing next to him in a huff.

Finally after what felt like an eternity to Romana, that nosy goose of a woman decided to end her detective work and leave the office.

"Sir, I have completed the test results on Lisa," she spoke timidly; her voice was unnaturally soft.

She turned her eyes to Romana's, and studied the contours of her face that were clearly suggesting something unpleasant.

Wesker nodded and focused his attention on Romana, whose eyes were following that woman's every step. Romana quickly cocked her head, when she felt Wesker's burning gaze upon her.

She didn't turn her softer gaze further, and met Wesker's harder, colder gaze without fear or uncertainty. She crossed her arms and did not hide the tense look flickering on her face.

"I feel that I am slowly withering away under your scorching gaze." Wesker schooled his features, giving Romana a strange look that was vague but hinting something close to tease at the same time.

However his features suddenly relaxed into their typical unconcerned look that suggested nothing…This was the very reason why people feared Wesker; his face never gave away any emotion. His skin perfectly kept the burning, unsettling emotions from creeping onto his cool, calm face.

Romana took a shallow intake of breath. "Are you mocking me?" she asked, which felt more like an answer than a question.

Wesker gently placed the file on the table and pretended to take some amount of interest in Romana's outburst of anger. "Don't let that anger possess you. As anger leads to stress, and stress can cause wrinkles," he said, looking bored and unconcerned.

Romana tried to look calm. She knew that sarcasm most probably drove his entire existence. He took sadistic pleasure in annoying the hell out of others, by taking shots at others pride, emotions, their way of thinking etc etc.

His Venomous remarks were nothing she was not aware of and unaccustomed to. Sometimes she wondered what she ever saw in this guy. If you took away the looks, the calm surface, and the money he had, what was he exactly left with? It was a silly thought, but not entirely illogical.

"You are a cold and despicable human being," Romana snapped out, pulling her eyes away from Wesker's.

Wesker was in a habit of ignoring anything that posed no threat, and since Romana pretty much fell into that category, she was also on Wesker's ignore list. Wesker simply turned a little and picked up the file he had abandoned a minute ago and resumed his work.

"Thank you for your compliments. I know I deserve all of them," Wesker's leveled voice had no note of anger… he really was amused.

This attitude of his only escalated Romana's welling anger. She felt a flurry of emotions resurfacing on her face from that sea of thoughts that flowed back and forth through her mind. This, and that she wanted to slap Wesker across the face; so much for the lady-like behavior.

Romana opened her lips but pressed them together again; thinking that it was no use, as words, or any actions whether they were passionate, or of the other kind would have no effect on him.

Preoccupied, and still quite caught between the conflicting feelings she channeled her attention else where. This time, her centre of focus was the mobile phone quietly lying next to the ticking clock.

The clock's ticking in the empty room filled with near silence felt like hammers echoing in her ears. It was just too loud compared to the silent phone that was teasing her with its still sounds.

Romana was impatiently waiting for someone's call, and the obvious impatience was making her even more uneasy.

"This clock is ticking," Romana said all of a sudden; kind of in an out of the blues manner.

Wesker cocked his head and observed Romana with his typical I-hardly-care look. "It is a clock; it is supposed to tick," he said, giving Romana suspicious looks, as if she did not belong in the researchers group but among his test subjects.

"I know that," Romana answered. She appeared a tad bit ashamed of her comment.

"Good to hear… Other wise…"

"Otherwise you thought that I am too dumb to be here," Romana spoke loudly, harshly flicking the files pages.

Romana was in fact an easy read, and Wesker was cunning enough to crack the obvious giveaway. In other words, he was just too smart for Romana's low EQ.

"How is my dear friend Leonard?" Wesker asked, throwing one of his mysterious smiles at the enraged Romana who looked very similar to a wild animal about to tear its prey apart.

"None of your business," Romana threatened, clenching her teeth and fists.

"Of course it is none of my business. However, I just hope that you do not get into unnecessary trouble for facilitating my dear friend's departure to the other side," Wesker said, slumping over the desk to take a closer look at the data displayed on the small computer screen.

Romana unclenched her fists and relaxed, thinking that Wesker was aware of her intentions, and the free display of anxiety considering the delicacy of the situation. It was best to say quiet, and observe. Maybe, she really needed to learn a thing or two from her object of desire.

Romana did not replay. She slowly, and quietly lowered herself on the chair. Even its soft creaks were painful enough. The whole atmosphere was only building up the tension and the gale of internal fear was just unbearable.

Romana knew Wesker well. She was certain that Wesker was not some common goose, who would start screaming murder upon discovering the news of Leonard's death. However, she had played a risky game and soon a dire situation was about to be upon her.

She had had enough of her cruel, unkind brother; more than enough to last her a life time. He wanted her dead, and she was not ready to die yet. It was all just a game for her brother, who was waiting for Spensor's return. He knew that Spensor will understand his motives, and will take him under his wings even if he knew that Leonard killed his sister.

Leonard was a wealthy man after all, and having him lavish attention on Spensor to spread his empire in the world of pharmaceuticals would have its prices. This prize was a wall of protection around Leonard, who was promised a free ticket to do whatever his heart desired, as long as his actions brought no harm to the name of Spensor family.

Many a times, Wesker dealt with complains from female researchers of sexual harassment and death threats. He was not a goody-goody peace maker, but Leonard's actions were foul, unjust, vulgar, and most of all, too annoying for Wesker to handle.

He had other, more pressing matters to attend to, rather than take actions on behalf of the female staff all day long. Time was not the luxury he had. Wesker only had a short amount of time on his hands to finalize his plans and the unknown Virus Birki gave him.

Leonard was only a hindrance, an annoyance that was nothing more than a low-down trouble maker, and Wesker always knew how to deal with nuisances like him; take care of the matter by eliminating the root cause. Of course he would come-clean, devilishly smiling, wearing cologne, and his one-of-a-kind black sunglasses. His act of dirty-innocence was always too believable.


	10. Chapter 8: Part 3: Romana and Leonard

**Chapter Eight: **Romana and Leonard**: Final **Part**.**

So much had happened since Romana's arrival in Raccoon City's finest and secret most research facility built under the superb camouflage, Spenser Mansion. A farrago of newly appointed male and female researchers flooded the ornamented walls in the busy hours of morning. It felt more like a common fish market than a well-established Research institute; at least that is what Wesker thought.

Wesker always gave the impression of an annoyed man when the sun came up and its rays traveled down, shimmering on the surface of the crystal-clear lake surface. It had nothing to do with his routine, but it had a lot to do with the early morning clamours of young researchers.

Wesker made a habit of patrolling in the halls, searching for any noise makers. He usually wore a stern expression and a deep frown between his golden eyebrows. Halls emptied out before his loud steps made it to their destination.

Young women were in a habit of sofa-stomping upon hearing the news of their departure to one of the international Umbrella branches. However, their fun was cut short when Wesker threw them a murderous glare or two. His loud, heavy steps were also menacing and felt like hammers of the custodian of the underworld in those quiet, cold halls.

Wesker had passed his vague complaints through Spenser's ears, regarding this problematic situation, and to Wesker's surprise, Spenser was more concerned about Leonard's obsessive behaviour than the staff. Spenser's concerns were genuine, as some of the female staff members were the granddaughters of his acquaintances, and his partnership was much more important than his new retarded mannequin, Leonard.

Spenser had somehow assumed that Leonard's strings were in his hands, and he would make him dance on his toes whenever his heart desired. So far, Leonard had paid him, or more specifically showered Spenser with riches he had inherited from his family. The scent of money had clouded Spenser's senses to some extent, but not entirely. He had now shifted his attention to Romana, who was the sole heir to the aristocratic family.

Romana was a bigger catch than the small-time royalty Leonard. It was about time that Spenser took some steps to ensure his safety in the business market. The first step towards that path of riches was to consider Wesker's innocent advises, as Leonard was behaving like a doll with no strings attached.

Spenser's much-needed decision to expel Leonard out of the mansion made Wesker quite happy, as this dire-problem in shape of Leonard only spelled disaster. Wesker had been whiffing smell of fear, anxiety, and arousal from the likes of Leonard as the presence of the fairer sex had certainly increased in the past month. The halls that were usually empty, were now lively, crowded by the female kind.

Leonard always looked impatient around them, and it was only a matter of time when his inner animal gave in to the temptations. Wesker was wary of his actions, but nothing prepared him for what was to come.

In the wake of the recent female overload, no one suspected the all-too-harmless looking Leonard to snatch a lady from such a crowded place. However, to Spenser's horror, the unthinkable had happened. One of the female researchers had gone missing from the manor, and to add salt over the fresh wound, she was the granddaughter of one of his closest friends.

Spenser was outraged, and Wesker amused. He knew that some proper action was due because of the recent unpleasant turn of events. Spenser wanted no stone left unturned; he was certain of Leonard's stealthy involvement, and wanting him dead was another one of his wishes. Wesker's moment of happiness was short-lived, as he was made in charge of the entire messy affair.

Wesker did not beat about the bush, or waste any time asking around innumerable researchers about the disappeared girl. If he did, then there were no guarantees that the girl will live to see tomorrow; he was still skeptical of her being alive even now. That said, things were definitely getting out of hand.

Romana knew little about Leonard's hanging-out spots, and arguing over such a delicate affair was time wasting. However, Wesker was not satisfied with Romana's answers. He did know Romana, and was also aware that she had been cooking up some nasty plans for her darling brother lately. Only a little bit of pressure was enough to make her cough up some necessary information.

"Romana, just tell me where Leonard is?" Wesker asked, looking slightly concerned. Well, he had to create some sort of concern on his face, as a whole day had passed, and the girl was still missing.

Romana could sense the danger that girl must be in; she was not the type to sacrifice others for her own benefit, but Leonard needed to be put to permanent rest. "What guarantee can you give that he won't be back to his old games after this?" Romana said, looking out into the distance.

"You want the girl dead, so you can prove the maniacal-status of your brother?" Wesker questioned Romana, looking over his shoulder.

Romana turned her attention for the slightly angered Wesker, hiding anger of her own by standing in shadows. "What will you do, if I told you where he is now?" she said, cocking her blue eyes that were shinning at the dim light of the moon.

"I will bring him back to the manor, along with the girl's dead body of course," Wesker said, looking and sounding serious.

"How can you be so sure that … that girl is already dead?" Romana spoke quickly, hastily stepping out of the shadow. The anxiety had started to creep onto her face; she was worried.

Wesker let out a sigh; he was getting annoyed with this entire game. "What do you expect from your abnormal brother?" he calmly slipped his hands in the pant's pocket. The inner conflicts only flickered on his face, never twisting his features or making him look anxious.

Romana walked close to him and lifted her gaze to meet his eyes. "We used to own a cabin close to the lake." She looked away. "I am sure he is there."

Wesker left the room in silence, leaving Romana to reflect upon her broken life and the possibility of something life-changing to happen in the near future.

Wesker left the safe walls of the mansion for the dense forest that surrounded the entire area. The sounds of the bubbling stream, the soft, wild cries of the owls, and the crackling of the leaves pierced through the silence in his mind. He walked slowly, talking deliberate steps when the small dimly lit cabin came into sight.

Wesker stopped next to the silently standing tree, whose dry leaves crackled like crying children who try to cling onto their mother's body from time to time. He took out his mobile and signaled the guards waiting just outside the manor. Wesker was not a coward, but proceeding into the lair of the beast without any backup was stupidity, and this is not was he was famous for.

Wesker lowered his head and looked at the small trail of something running across the rough path. His eyes widened a little; there was no mistaking it. The black dots were definitely dried blood. Wesker's expression twisted for a second; he knew that there was little hope left for the poor girl in this doomed search.

Regardless, he had to go inside and be sure. His keen ears were alert for any sounds from inside the cabin, but so far, he perceived nothing. He extended his hand and gave the wooden door a slight push. The door smoothly moved, not making any unpleasant sounds; it was oiled properly.

He peered into the darkness, standing still, waiting for his eyes to adjust themselves. The dim light he saw from outside was emanating from a dying candle. The flame dancing on the thread was small, threatening to go out any moment. Wesker cautiously stepped in and swept his eyes around the room.

He settled his eyes on something that looked like a woman's leg. He stood still for a moment, thinking about the horrors his eyes were going to see in a second or two. However, he shrugged off those unwanted farrago of thoughts and feelings, and reduced the distance between the unknown object and himself.

When he walked closer, he realized that the leg like object was in fact a woman's leg. He was relieved somewhat when the leg trembled with the life running inside its veins. Slight worry creased his face as he stretched his hand for the woman breathing heavily under the cloth.

Leonard was sadistic after all and it did not surprise Wesker even in the slightest that the woman was somewhat cleverly hidden behind the tattered, smelly cloth. Maybe she was not cleverly concealed behind the cloth at all; who knew what went on inside Leonard's guttery, evil mind that was literally the hell-hole and inspiration for all his evil acts.

Wesker slowly lifted the cloth off the woman that was covering her entire body. He turned his head at the sounds of heavy foot steps. Within moments, the guards flooded the small space and secured the entire area.

"Sir we came as fast as we could," one of the young guards spoke loudly.

Wesker gave him an unpleasant look and returned his attention to the girl who was blind- folded and gagged. She looked miserable. There were scratch marks on her arms, neck, thighs; Leonard didn't even show some mercy to her face. Fine thin lines ran across her cheeks. Leonard had probably scratched her.

_The damage is not severe_, Wesker thought, _they can easily heal with medicine and time._

Wesker carefully removed the cloth covering her eyes. Her skin trembled under his light touch. She let out a loud whimper when her eyes focused on Wesker's face, hovering above hers.

"It is alright…The team will take you back to the manor, and Leonard will be dealt with appropriately," he said, removing the gag, and undoing the ropes around her hands.

"S-sir," the young girl cried out, and threw herself in Wesker's arms.

Wesker hands were still in air, and his mind was registering the awkward situation, but he controlled his feelings, and lightly tapped on the girls back.

Wesker looked at the guard, who understood his unspoken words. He approached Wesker and supported the crying, wounded girl on her feet. She was still wobbling and the dried trails of blood on her inner thighs were visible. Leonard had already done his work.

Wesker looked around the cabin, which was dirty and the smell emanating from the dead rotten body of some animal was unbearable. It was possible that those marks on the path outside were that of the dead animal, but Wesker was not sure. He let out a sigh, kneeling over the torn cloth. He knew that a long, tiring paper work was to follow this morbid incident. He just wanted to strangle the life out of Leonard.

What followed this incident was similar to all hell breaking loose on Leonard. The nasty plan Romana had been formulating since God knows how long, was finally put to action. Leonard was pushed into the driving seat and fortunately while driving he crashed the car into the trees. The police found him in the wrecked car; they were amazed that anyone would survive, but Leonard miraculously did.

Leonard was then sent to a well-known mental institution, and was forgotten quickly. Everyone moved on with their lives, especially Romana, who was glad that the maniac finally got what he deserved. She left the city, and returned to her home in Paris soon after this hellish ordeal.

However, Leonard escaped from the institution about a few months before police found the corpse of his latest victim. Wesker needed no proof; he was dead-sure that Leonard was involved behind this entire affair.

He did not know why he went for such an approach, but he did have some lingering thoughts about this. Leonard was drawing the attention of STARS members on purpose. It was the only logical answer; the pendent, the careless rape of a woman… He definitely wanted someone's attention to expose Wesker and Romana so that he could get back at them.

However, if Leonard was thinking he will be able to pull off that childish plan of his, he was mistaken. Wesker was a formidable enemy who was not to be messed with.

"I am not hiding him any where… Surely you know me this much," Romana said angrily.

Wesker released his tight grip on the curtain. "If he thinks he can win in his little game of his, then his idiocy is just remarkable." Wesker turned around fully. "I actually wanted to let this entire affair slip, but I think the baby needs to be taught a little lesson." Wesker smiled, gathering his features into a more clam, yet amused look.

"You will kill him?" Romana asked, looking at the shards scattered on the carpet.

"Isn't this what you always wanted? He dies, and you and I can finally live in peace. And he gets eternal peace. Every body wins in this fight," Wesker said calmly, as if matter of life and dead was as amusing and interesting as playing a game.

"Fine…What do you want me to do?" Romana said, lowering herself on the sofa.

Wesker reflected upon something for a fleeting moment. "You can stay if you want to, but I think it would be better if you left for France," Wesker said, slipping his hand inside the pocket to take out his mobile.

Romana did not reply and stayed quiet, thinking that her brother's corpse will arrive on her doorstep soon.


	11. Chapter 9: A Reckless Decision

**Chapter Nine: **A Reckless Decision

Things were not looking bright and sunny for Jill, even if the sky was clear and the sun shone brightly between a large patch of towering cumulous cloud. Its rays shimmered on the slightly disturbed surface of the beautiful lake that filled the depression between the lofty peaks dotted with the trees of Arkley forest.

She had come here to investigate the area with the tired Brad, who was purposelessly sitting on a large tree root jutting out of the ground, wearing a weary expression.

"Jill…can we please go home already?" Brad said in heavy voice that suggested boredom.

Jill turned around, folding her bare arms. She had decided to investigate the area in civilian clothes.

"We will Brad, be patient." She lowered her head, and wiped beads of sweat trailing down her fair face on her arm. The air was still and the humidity was quite unbearable.

"If that perverted guy doesn't kill us, this heat will… I am literally burning over here," Brad said with an edge to his voice, raising his arms to show Jill the sweat wetting his clothes.

Jill let out a sigh. "Fine, just 10 more minutes," she said, moving her eyes to scan the thick jungle surrounding them.

Brad leaned his back against the tree, looking positively relaxed that this horrible torture will end soon. Jill slowly walked back and forth between the small space, where the ground was soft and covered with the tall grass reaching Jill's knees.

She leaned down and scratched her knees, as the rough grass was making her itch all over her legs.

Jill had hoped to find some sort of clue from the location from where they found the man's second victim, who was still struggling between life and death at Raccoon City's hospital.

This location was important as the man had dumped the first body near by and raped, and nearly killed his second victim at the spot where Jill stood.

There were no marks there now, not even the blood that had stained the plants and the ground when the man stabbed the woman with his sharp knife mercilessly. The recent spell of rains had washed this ground of his brutality.

It was Jill's idea to wander in the dense forest early in the morning. She and Brad left their homes when the red tinge was still struggling to speared across the sky. Now the morning light had tore open the sky, and the night felt like a long forgotten dream.

They had been searching here and there for the past five hours or so. However, the fact that Jill had not stumbled onto anything extraordinary was exhausting, and frustrating. She questioned Billy at the farm before coming here, and he told her about his same paltry experience.

From his statement she was able to deduce that the man most probably lingered around, hiding in the forest, waiting for the passing by women. Unfortunately for Jill, this was the theory she had thought of earlier, and reflecting upon this thought was not offering her any sort of help at the moment.

Billy's statement did not give any new information; it was the same old story Jill had gone through in written form at the office. So waiting for some accidental finding was perhaps her idea of advancing fast forward in this case.

Jill's eyes followed the small grassy trail till the edge of the small mountain. She stood at the tip, looking down at the deep water slowly and softly hitting against the pebbles scattered on the deserted shore.

It was difficult for her to see very far as the mist above the lake's surface had not vanished. Instead it just settled there, hovering above the large lake like a ghost.

Jill narrowed her eyes, peering through the veil of mist, searching for any visible clues. She leaned her head forward, trying to focus her vision on a strange object that looked like a small hut or something like it.

"Jill, be careful before you fall into the lake," Brad shouted from behind her.

"This is hardly a time for these stupid jokes." Jill frowned, diverting her attention to Brad, who was standing close to her.

"This is not a joke, and stop making fun of me and my sense of humour. It is not that bad as those ready made, cheap jokes Chris throws around," Brad said with a note of slight anger in his voice.

Jill pursed her lips, returning her gaze back to the lake. She moved her eyes around frantically, but the mist was playing a game with her eyes, thickening and moving, making it difficult for her to spot what she saw earlier.

It was no use; no matter how hard she looked, it was just impossible to see through the thick barrier between her eyes and what lied across the lake. The weather had started to build up as well, and the dark grey clouds had already swallowed up the sun in their bellies.

"Jill, I think it is going to rain soon, we better go," Brad said, resting his hand on Jill's shoulder covered with the trickles of light rain.

"Yeah, it is pretty pointless to keep searching under these conditions anyway," she said, cocking her head to look at the lake silently sleeping in the arms of the mountain. "We can come back later. I think I want to investigate this place one more time."

Brad nodded in approval and walked with her to their car parked outside forest. "Do you really think we will find something?" he asked Jill who looked lost in thoughts.

"I think we will." She smiled at Brad, squeezing his hand playfully.

Jill and Brad drove home quietly, but Jill's mind still clung onto the possibility of the killer living somewhere near the point they stood. She had some lingering feelings that the ghost like hut she saw for a moment, perhaps belonged to the man dubbed as the ruthless killer.

A strange, and an utterly foolish idea of a heroic deed started to posses her mind. It was frightening to even set her mind in this direction, but some sort of plan was needed to lure the man.

_Is it even possible…? Will I be able to pull this off all by myself?_ she thought, clenching the steering in her hand. The sight of the boulevard before her betrayed her inner vision that was still stuck somewhere in forest.

"Jill slow down, or you will miss my house," Brad shouted, jumping on the seat.

Jill shrugged off the thoughts, and cocked her head slightly to look at the gate she had left behind through the back mirror.

"There." She moved the car back slowly, and applied the breaks in front of the dark brown gate, dripping and glistering with the rain water.

"Thanks Jill," Brad said, stretching his left arm and wiping the window with a tiny hankie. "I wonder when this rain will stop."

Jill remained quiet, still torn between going back there all by herself, or taking someone with her. "Did Wesker say anything about any new information he got from the Romana?" Jill asked, looking into the distance.

"No, I don't think so. He told Barry that the woman new nothing," he answered, turning his head to observe Jill's tightened features.

"What about the database?" Jill quickly asked, resting her hands on her thighs.

"Jill I told you, he said he found nothing useful…relax okay. Don't let this case get to you. Honestly, you have been acting funny all morning," Brad said, giving Jill odd looks of disapproval.

"Just get lost Brad. I have to get home, and make the most of this holiday," Jill said coolly, but her voice had a fleeting note of uneasiness.

"Okay, I am going…Sheesh You can be so mean Jill," Brad said sheepishly, stepping out of the car. He quickly closed the door and ran for the gate.

Jill looked back once and then turned the car for where she intended to go. The ride did not last long, as Jill spent most of her time thinking over whether she should or shouldn't inform Wesker. This was a reckless and stupid idea, but an affective one. The man was bound to show up, seeing a woman standing alone in the forest.

She was trained enough to handle at least one man and she was also not unarmed, so the plan did seem somewhat intelligent, even if it wasn't entirely fool-proof.

Jill parked the car at the same spot, where she had parked it early this morning. She stepped out and moved her head skyward, squeezing her eyes ever so slightly when the trickles landed on her warm cheeks.

The atmosphere was chilly and quiet. She could not hear anything other than the sounds of the rain drops falling softly on the ground. Even the air was gentle, and the rustling of the leaves was drowned by the thunder roaring like a ferocious lion in the sky.

She lowered her eyes and then turned her keen gaze for the path that looked dark and hidden behind the tall, wet trees. It was a reckless decision, but it was done now. She had not come all this way to run back into the car.

Jill slowly moved her hand down, and firmed her hold over the gun hidden beneath her thin wet sweater flowing over her thighs. She took slow, cautious steps, looking at her surrounds carefully to pierce her gaze through the shadows that hindered her vision.

When Jill finally came to that spot where the woman must have thrashed in pain, she stopped, and pulled the gun out of the leather holding. She turned her head, raising the gun high to stay alter and on guard.

Jill pointed it toward the tree that hid an entire lake behind it. She took a few quick steps and stood close to the lone peak, squinting down at the hut, looking prominent and visible now that the mist had disappeared.

It was not far from her current location, but unfortunately she could not possibly climb down to personally investigate the hut by herself, as the path looked quite steep and slippery. She would quite easily loose her footing… It was just too dangerous.

Jill lowered her gun, thinking and intently looking at the light visible from inside the hut. It seemed as if it was not deserted.

She took one step to try and get a clear view of some strange object hanging outside the door, but she quickly stopped, raising her ears to listen to the soft rustling sounds behind her back.

She spun around quickly, but before she could raise her gun, a sharp blow landed on her head. Her vision started swaying and blurring. She lost her footing and fell on the ground like a lifeless doll. Her gun was not even in her hand anymore. It had fallen somewhere.

Her fingers trembled, and her eyes began to flutter under the blood trailing down from her forehead. The man standing before her stood completely still with a heavy object hanging from his hand.

She dragged her nails on the ground, and let out a hoarse cry before she fell completely unconscious.


	12. Final Chapter: Untold Truths

**Final Chapter**: Untold Truths

This is what it must have felt like, helpless and completely alone, unprotected and waiting to meet ones death. These thoughts crossed Jill's clouded mind, and all her life's memories just flashed before her hazy eyes as she looked at the face of death shrouded in darkness.

She was completely unaware where she was, and her senses were playing a game of their own. Her head had still not recovered from that sharp blow, and it felt as if it was some where deep underwater.

Her vision was madly swaying like a small boat being wildly thrashed on the ferocious waves. She wrinkled her nose at the overpowering smell of something rotten…It was literally shutting off her breath.

Jill gave a shaky sob and coughed to let out the air burning her throat. She cocked her ears to try and listen to what the man was saying, but the pain in her head and that revolting smell had still not subsided. Even if the man was talking loudly, she was unable to understand anything. To her, all his words were just indistinct mumbles.

Her decision was truly reckless and stupid. She should have contacted Wesker, or at least informed someone of her whereabouts. Now no one knew where she was and what torture she was being put through.

_Brad must think I'm home, _she thought about all those thoughts whirling in her mind. If someone did miraculously show up, this probably would be a lesson of a life time…

Jill turned her head slightly when she heard the sound of the door. This is when she realized her hands were securely tied. She pulled them once, but they were completely numb.

She could not feel her arms anymore, but could sense a small insect crawling on her right arm. Its small legs felt like tiny needles, prickling and piercing her numb cold arms.

Her legs were casually spread on the chilly floor, partially covered with a thick cloth. She pulled them closer, but her left leg slipped as she firmly placed her boot on a slimy liquid dripping from the table in front.

Her leg trembled slightly but she did not try to pull it again, as her thigh had fallen on that liquid and was now completely covered with it on the underside. She stopped her movement completely when she heard the door slam against the wall.

The man was angry, and waiting for someone to show up. Jill could hear his heavy footsteps pounding on the wooden floor across the small hut.

He kept mumbling something like, "he will show up," over and over again, like an insane man who tells incoherent tales only he can understand.

Jill tried to listen and focus her attention on his voice alone, but her senses were failing her. She was unsure whether this was due to the head injury, or had the man injected her with something?

Whatever the reason, her eyes were fluttering like the tired wings of a dying bird. They were red rimmed, and teary. She could not see clearly, and the shadows around her began to loom like strange shapes about to lunge at her.

Wherever she looked, only darkness greeted her. The man who was slightly visible a while ago had strangely fallen behind the veil of thick shadows. A strange swirling sound began to echo in her ears, and those heavy footsteps felt like light trickles of the gentle rain.

Jill was beginning to fall back into a state of complete unconsciousness. She did not want to completely give herself in. So she shook her head a few times to stay awake. Her eyes shot open once but they began to droop again.

Her entire body felt heavy and weary. No matter how much she tried, her resolve was breaking before her condition. Her entire body trembled and the breath chocking her escaped her lips like a pleasant sigh… She suddenly fell unconscious, unaware of what was going on around her.

"Ha ha ha ha," the man laughed to his heart content at the sight of the shadow lifting its veil from over the other, fairer man. "I knew you would show up." He wiped the spit trailing down his chin on his trembling, blood smeared hand.

"You never had any manners as to how you are supposed to welcome your guests… Leonard." The man lifted his lips into a mocking smile, stepping in proudly to show the gun pointed at Leonard's chest.

"They are going to know now that you are involved with Umbrella," Leonard wobbled at the sight of the gun, stepping back, cowering like a wounded dog.

"Really? And how is that?" He looked around and smoothly moved his hand up to remove his glasses, revealing those crystal like, pure, and cunning blue eyes. "I see you have brought a guest," he said in a smooth, fear-free voice.

"She is Jill, from your team isn't she? They will be looking for her," Leonard said, pointing his finger at the beautiful lake.

"I highly doubt that any of my team members are even aware of her ridiculous decision," the fair man said, narrowing his ominous gaze on Leonard.

"Wesker you… and my sister will die a dog's death," Leonard screamed, spitting saliva into the air.

Wesker stretched his hand and gave Leonard a hard jab. Leonard landed on his back, and slithered on the floor away from the cunning man.

"I do not like fowl language, so refrain yourself from using it," Wesker warned, but his voice had no note of threat; it was still as smooth as velvet.

Leonard gulped, raising himself from such an awkward position. His hands were trembling, and his legs were refusing to cooperate. He touched the wall behind him and stood a few feet away from Wesker.

"I…I have left a note in her car…and I have even made a call that I have the girl. It will not be long before they show up here." He fisted his dirty shirt, and gave a horrendous laugh.

"You mean this note." Wesker produced a neatly folded paper from his pocket.

Leonard pressed his back against the wall, looking at Wesker with fear filled eyes as he casually tossed the paper in the active fire place. The paper quickly burned and turned to ashes.

"I knew it from the start what you were up to." Wesker moved closer to Leonard. "I was even aware of the silly plans Jill was making in her childish mind…So, I thought, why not let you have a little fun." Wesker slightly pressed the trigger. Its small click echoed loudly in the room.

Leonard only listened, stubbornly pressing his back against the wooden wall as if it was going to miraculously swallow him.

"I was even willing to let you live, if you gave up this ridiculous idea of opening you foul mouth," Wesker said, eyeing the frightened Leonard hunched against the wall.

"How unfortunate that you were always the trouble maker. I never did like you, or cleaning up your messes that were your idea of fun." A look of complete hatred flickered across Wesker's fair face.

"This girl is listening to all of this." He leaned down, and gently stroked Jill's moist hairs.

"She is completely unconscious for the moment," Wesker said with a note of absolute confidence in his voice.

"How do you know that?" Leonard questioned, looking into Wesker's eyes hidden behind the cloud of emotions.

"I asked Romana to drug her…It was a potent drug, and was supposed to work after she fell a sleep, or unconscious." Wesker threw Leonard a smile of bitter-victory. "By the way, the story you wrote in that little love letter of yours would hardly have been worth anyone's precious time."

Leonard stepped away from Jill and stood behind the shadow cast by the dancing flames of the fire place. He turned his eyes slowly for the barrel only a feet or two away from him. If he could just slide there during the conversation, he will be able to grab that gun hidden under the dirty cloth.

"It had everything in it; all the details about your loyalty to Spenser," Leonard spoke through clenched teeth. He was drunk, and his clouded senses were already giving up on him.

Wesker listened to him quietly, wearing his classic distant expression. Even his eyes were empty, hinting no emotion, but his gun was still raised high in his hand.

Leonard stretched his hand and slipped it under the cloth. He was still feeling the gun under his hand, when a loud gun shot sound pierced through the stagnant air in the room.

Leonard looked at the smoke rising from the end of Wesker's gun, and then he felt unbearable pain spread through his entire body from his hand.

He pulled his hand from under the cloth, and brought it close to its face. It was holed in the middle and blood was leaking from it profusely. He clenched his hand in the other, and coughed violently. Tears started cascading down his cheeks as he looked at Wesker, his eyes flashing with hatred.

"I am surprised you cannot feel any pain, Leonard." Wesker gave a soft, menacing laugh at the sight of defeated Leonard. "You are quite the sight to behold…It is a shame we will be parting ways in the coming moments."

Leonard slumped onto the cold floor, wide-eyed, and exhausted. He knew he had made a mistake in underestimating Wesker, and now we would have to pay for it dearly.

When Jill finally came to, her eyes immediately focused on a familiar face. She opened her lips, and uttered a soft indistinct sound.

"Farewell Leonard…It was clearly not a pleasure meeting you," Wesker said coldly, aiming his gun at Leonard's skull.

Leonard quickly moved his head, and opened his lips to scream, but he was silenced by three bullets.

His arms lifelessly fell by his sides and his face froze in an expression hinting fear, surprise, and pain. Leonard was dead, still staring at Wesker through his dead eyes.

Wesker slipped his gun back into the gun holder, and moved his hand up to turn on the small device on his ear. He gave the signal to the Alpha team searching mindlessly in the forest.

Jill still could not hear a thing, but her eyes were locked on Leonard's corpse rotting by her side. Her horrible ordeal was certainly over, but for Wesker, it was another pest-control issue that was cleanly and skillfully taken care of.


	13. Epilogue

**Epil**ogue

Jill's horrible ordeal ended, and the criminal met his end at Wesker's hands. She still remembered his vacant eyes locked on Wesker even in his death, and that foul blood leaking from those three holes in his skull.

She could still recall it vividly when Chris helped her to her feet; she cocked her eyes slightly to look into his wide, lifeless eyes… She wondered at that very moment, would he have looked this vulnerable, this pathetic when he killed that woman? Was there any humanity in him when he killed her? Or was it lost, torn from his body like his ghost?

What made him kill that woman? He was not skillful because he had left evidences behind for STARS to find. Was he simply insane that he did not care about his inevitable future behind iron bars, or in the electric chair?

He wanted the team to find him. He seemed desperate. This is what Jill thought, but why was the biggest question that plagued her mind even after three months had already passed. If she had regained consciousness any sooner, she would have asked him herself.

It did not matter now. She was alive, breathing in the fresh air of life, and he was buried six feet under somewhere with his cut open corpse as the medical students had performed their first try at autopsy on him. She was not even sure if there was any corpse, or had they cremated him in the hospital furnace.

The woman whom he had mercilessly raped and stabbed, miraculously survived. Her two young daughters almost lost their mother at this foul criminal's hands. He deserved every bit of torture as a gift, a present for what he did to those women. His first victim was not fortunate enough, and died a miserable death inside his hut.

Jill never expected her decision to blow up in her face like this. Now that the time had passed and she had moved on, her past decision still seemed so reckless, so stupid. However, it was past now; she had survived and learned from her childish mistake, as always counting on lady luck was not the way around things.

She was still thinking when Chris clicked his fingers in front of her face. She shook her head, and blinked, feeling attached with the nightmare of her past. She cocked her head and smiled at Chris who was buckling his fanny bag.

Bizarre murder cases had occurred in the outskirts of Raccoon city, and Bravo team was sent in to investigate. Unfortunately, they had lost contact, and now it was up to them, the Alpha team to investigate the area.

Jill held the pistol in her hand, and moved her hands up to push her light blue cap that had fallen over her brow. She pinned it from inside and looked at the young, confident woman staring back at her from the crystal clear mirror.

Life was finally back to normal…

**Comments**: I thank all readers and reviewers. I have managed to finally bring this story to its conclusion, hope you all enjoyed it. Any comments and feed back is welcome.

Also, if you have any requests, do send them my way.


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